Passage of Fear
by Cascadia
Summary: Someone's infected Obi-Wan with a memory loss virus. What do they have planned for him next? complete
1. Labyrinth

TITLE: PASSAGE OF FEAR  
AUTHOR: Cascadia  
TIME: 7 years pre-TPM, Obi-Wan is 18  
RATING: PG-13  
CATEGORY: Drama/Angst, Non-Slash  
SUMMARY: Someone has infected Obi-Wan with a memory-loss virus. What are their plans for him now?  
ARCHIVE: Please ask first.  
DISCLAIMER: All recognizable characters are the property of Lucasfilm Limited. All the rest belong to me. I receive absolutely no profit from this.  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is a sequel to 'Trembling in the Balance' and 'Hiding Master Sariel', but it is not necessary that you read them first to understand this story. Anything between * * are personal thoughts. Anything between / / are Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon talking through their bond.  
  
  
  
  
  
~CHAPTER 1 - LABYRINTH~  
  
  
  
Countless visible stars shimmered from the blackening sky - creating a sparkling backdrop for the enormous skyscrapers on Coruscant's upper level. Nighttime had fallen hours before, but the city lived on as though it were day. There never seemed to be a time when the city slept. It was a constant consciousness never seeking rest - never wanting respite.  
  
This was how the planet lived. Although its inhabitants lived, died, and did a lifetime of things in between, the steady stream of activity never slowed - heavy air traffic was a constant. It all served as a rude reminder that life continued on - for the ones destiny or fate deemed worthy.  
  
The young Jedi shuddered involuntarily from a short blast of cool air that came from below, travelling upward from some unseen source. The chill brought to the forefront of his thoughts the displacement of his warm robe safely hidden away inside. He was alone on the balcony - and alone in his thoughts.  
  
A sense of isolation had settled in after he and his master moved to separate living quarters. It was not uncommon for masters with senior padawans to live separately - and the young Jedi had insisted on the arrangements himself - but now it seemed a hollow victory. Now that he had it, it didn't seem to matter anymore. In fact, he dearly wished that things were like they were... before.   
  
He felt that something was terribly wrong. There was no clue, no proof as to what WAS wrong. But he could not shed the heavy presage that had draped itself over him, ominating. His master's close proximity would make him feel less insecure. Although he was eighteen now, in the past he had always relied on his master for comfort or support, and even a thin wall was more than he felt comfortable with right now.  
  
His master was the great Qui-Gon Jinn, revered by so many - including himself - despite a difference in philosophy from most other Jedi. But how did he feel about his apprentice's weakness? Was he disappointed? Was he embarrassed? Would he rethink keeping Obi-Wan as his padawan learner?  
  
Obi-Wan refused to believe that his failure would have no effect on his status with Qui-Gon. The master was caring, yet Obi-Wan sometimes felt that the elder man was so far above him, that the young Jedi was more of a liability than an appreciated addition. True, Qui-Gon had said that Obi-Wan was like a son to him. But what would any of them know what having a son was like? They had never experienced a real family. It was another part of life the Jedi Code kept locked away from them - a part that could never be truly understood.  
  
How long had it been since he had been free of his drug addiction? About one month. In that time he had worked hard to keep his link to the Force strong and anchored. Still, he felt insecure and grappled at any Force-sensations he detected - afraid of falling away from the ivory tower that kept him from drowning into a sea of nothingness, helplessness.  
  
But what most concerned him was that he allowed himself to sink into that bondage. True, the drug had a strong addictive nature, but it was not so much that others became hooked on it the way he had - at least not any others that he knew of - and especially not Jedi.   
  
And he was a Jedi.... So why did he let himself be led by a drug... and not the Force?  
  
It was all his fault, he reasoned. If he had kept a closer walk with the Force, then his addiction would not have taken over. The Force is greater than anything... enormously greater than an addiction to a drug. So why did he fail? Why did he give up and resign in defeat? Why? A Jedi gets all his strength from the Force. But sometimes it's so difficult to just let go of everything and rely solely on the Force, and not on yourself. When will he learn to be the Jedi he should be? Perhaps never.  
  
Turning, he stepped back into his quarters, stopping just as the doors slid shut behind him. The droning sounds of the night traffic faded, leaving him in a vacuum of silence - a silence to compliment every other imagined insufficiency in his life.  
  
"Master," his voice a mere whisper. There would be no answer. He did not expect one.  
  
He walked to his bedroom and fell on the bed, fully clothed. The mattress felt lumpy... unwelcoming. After tossing about in his bed for what seemed like hours, he finally fell asleep - plagued by dreams of failure.  
  
Morning brought a slight sense of hope that things were not so bleak - that the problems he mused over were only in his mind and did not exist beyond his thoughts. Daylight also brought with it a sharp headache that lasted only a few seconds before receding back to its hidden lair. That seemed to happen a lot recently.  
  
He showered, dressed, and did whatever else needed to be done before meeting his master in the training salles for their morning workout.  
  
Sabre practice usually came last, much to Obi-Wan's chagrin. Everything proceeded normally - Qui-Gon introduced Obi-Wan to a new level of kata and explained a different way of thinking about the Force - then they broke into lightsabre sparring.  
  
Obi-Wan was doing well, Qui-Gon thought - performing with the celerity the young man usually had. He appeared to be putting into use parts of the new kata Qui-Gon had just shown him earlier.  
  
Qui-Gon swung his blade around for a strike from the side. It was a simple attack - not requiring any advanced training to deflect. But just as the Jedi master's sabre came into motion, Obi-Wan felt a pain in the back of his head - temporarily interrupting his concentration - and the green blade struck the young man on the side - eliciting a cry from the injured youth, who fell to the mat on his knees, holding his wounded side.  
  
"Are you alright, padawan?" Qui-Gon asked, crouching next to the young Jedi.  
  
Looking up into his master's eyes, Obi-Wan answered, "Yes, Master. I think I was mostly just surprised."  
  
"Or confused?" the Jedi master supplied calmly. With their training bond, there was little that could be hidden from one partner - especially during a combat situation where they were trained to be of one mind.  
  
"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan admitted quietly. "I was a little confused."  
  
Qui-Gon offered his hand to the young Jedi, and they both stood - Qui-Gon still studying his apprentice for any further sign of perplexity.  
  
Obi-Wan appeared fine now, but Qui-Gon couldn't help but wonder what had caused the bewilderment. It was not like Obi-Wan to exhibit such blatant confusion as the Jedi master had read in him moments before.  
  
"I'm fine now, Master," the young Jedi assured, after noting the concern etched upon the face of the man he looked up to as mentor, teacher, and father - as much as could be understood by a Jedi that a father would be.  
  
The elder man nodded before turning towards the exit from the salles. The young Jedi followed - although wondering slightly as to why the sparring was ended so quickly after it began. Qui-Gon walked in silence down the hall, peering only straight ahead - offering no explanation for their hasty retreat.   
  
At a conjunction of hallways Qui-Gon stopped, turning to Obi-Wan who kept a close walking proximity to the Jedi master. "Obi-Wan, get yourself cleaned up, and then meet me in my quarters," he paused, his eyes peering deep into the bright blue eyes of the padawan.  
  
"Yes, Master," Obi-wan replied, feeling even more confused than he had during their sabre sparring. He simply stood, watching his master recede further down the hallway, until he rounded a corner and disappeared entirely from view.  
  
*What did I do wrong now?* he wondered, miserably. He was only a little confused. It wasn't so terrible, was it?  
  
He slouched up to his living quarters, keeping his head bowed most of the way. Passing a few friends on the way there, he only nodded at them if they spoke.  
  
The water from the shower felt refreshing, but it did not alleviate the miserable feeling inside of him.  
  
*I've let Master Qui-Gon down again. I'll never be the Jedi I should be. I feel so unworthy. Here I am having trained all my life, and still so unprepared....*  
  
A tiny headache formed again - growing in intensity - then left as quickly as it had begun.  
  
Obi-Wan left the shower, toweling off. In his bedroom he started to open a drawer, but then couldn't remember what it was that was in the drawer that he wanted. He waited for several seconds, desperately trying to recall what had so easily slipped his mind.  
  
Giving up, he opened the drawer to see what was in it - since he couldn't remember, at the moment, what would be there. There inside, was a clean collection of socks. He picked out a pair and then dressed quickly. He gave the drawer no more thought as he flew from his quarters into the hall.  
  
Qui-Gon answered the door before the young Jedi rang the door chime. "Come in, padawan," Qui-Gon warmly intoned.   
  
*His mask is on again,* Obi-Wan thought. He wondered if Qui-Gon would even mention why they had so quickly aborted sabre sparring earlier, or if the master would torture his charge by leaving the matter so conspicuously untouched.  
  
Obi-Wan followed his master in the kitchen. As soon as they entered, the young man could smell the delectable scents originating from a sophisticated pre-planned lunch.  
  
"Sit down, padawan," Qui-Gon gestured to a chair at the table.   
  
After seating himself, Obi-Wan watched as his master brought the steaming dishes to the table - placing them carefully in an arrangement so that the young man would not have to stretch far to reach any of them. Lastly, an empty plate was placed on the table before him, alongside stemware and a napkin.  
  
Qui-Gon then sat at the table directly facing him - without saying a word.  
  
Obi-Wan looked at the table, then at his master before speaking. "Master," he said quietly, "why did you go to so much trouble... to fix all this food?" he asked, glancing over the dishes.  
  
"Because, padawan," Qui-Gon smiled, "I enjoy doing things for you."  
  
Obi-Wan stared at his master, unsure of what to say. "Thank you, Master... for doing all this... for me." He dropped his eyes back to the table.  
  
"Go on," Qui-Gon chuckled. "Eat."  
  
Slowly, the young Jedi filled his plate. After he started eating, Qui-Gon filled his own plate. They ate in an uncomfortable silence - anyway, it was uncomfortable for Obi-Wan, for he knew not what lurked behind his master's visage.  
  
After his last bite, Obi-Wan raised his eyes back to Qui-Gon, who was nearly finished with his plate.  
  
"Obi-Wan," the master began as he laid his fork down. "How have you been today?"  
  
"Fine, Master."  
  
Qui-Gon stared at the padawan. "This morning, when we were sparring," he hesitated when he noticed a flash of shame in Obi-Wan's eyes. "How were you feeling then, padawan?" he added gently.  
  
Obi-Wan would not look at Qui-Gon, but only stared at the empty plate before the Jedi master. "I suppose I was... confused, Master," he quietly finished.  
  
"Do you know why you were confused?" Qui-Gon prodded, trying to be more encouraging than anything else.  
  
The young Jedi thought about the question, realizing that he had not wondered about it earlier. "No... I suppose I don't know, Master? Does it really matter?" He finally met the older man's gaze.  
  
"I think that we should examine why, padawan. I sensed your confusion. It was not just a momentary distraction.... Is there anything else about this morning that was out of the ordinary? Anything at all... different?" Qui-Gon felt something was wrong. There was definitely more going on than what showed on the surface.  
  
Obi-Wan looked at his master. "I'm not sure, Master.... I think I had a little headache while we were sparring, but it didn't last long."  
  
Qui-Gon's eyes narrowed. A headache? Was that important? The Force was telling him it was. "Is there anything else that happened, Obi-wan?" he asked, trying to discern the problem.  
  
"No, Master. I can't think of anything else," the young man answered, staring again at his plate.  
  
"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon stood, "I think we should go to the healers." He moved behind the young Jedi, calmly pulling him to his feet.  
  
"But why, Master? I feel fine now," Obi-Wan protested.  
  
"Because, I feel that there is more to this," Qui-Gon said, cryptically.  
  
Oh, how he hated this. Obi-Wan felt a sudden tinge of fear. What was happening to him? He had only broken free of that addiction a month ago. Now... something else was happening?  
  
But, he was acquiescent and let Qui-Gon take him to the healers - without further complaint. He had learned not to question his master's actions in most circumstances.   
  
Qui-Gon's belief in the Living Force was a controversial subject to most Jedi. But Obi-Wan had witnessed too many times when the Jedi master was proven right. Qui-Gon's acceptance of a gift from an ambassador on their last mission was one action that would be frowned upon normally. But the gift - a drangmul pup - was the agent that revealed Obi-Wan's drug addiction to Qui-Gon. If the elder Jedi had not listened to the Living Force then - acting on a feeling that challenged the Jedi Code - then Obi-Wan may well still be trapped by the drug. Qui-Gon informed the Council of the pup, only to find that the Council already knew - for they agreed to pay the ambassador for it.  
  
Defiance was what Master Yoda called it. Yoda undoubtedly saw the Living Force as a virtue, but did not espouse it to the extent that Qui-Gon did. Obi-Wan assumed that the wise, old Jedi Councilor dabbled in both kinds of Force philosophy - Living and Unifying. But Qui-Gon was unorthodox - ultimately throwing out commonly accepted Jedi Code rules when they came in conflict with the Living Force's prodding.  
  
"Do we serve the Jedi Council or the Force?" Qui-Gon had once asked his young apprentice.  
  
Of course, the answer was obvious. But the Council was not likely to find the answer a comfortable one - especially if they felt their rules were uncompromisable. The Force is immutable and infallible - we are not. But the Force would never lead one to do something wrong - of that, Obi-Wan was sure - there must be some intrinsic value to the outcome... and the means to reach it.  
  
Obi-Wan sat in the reception room, waiting for Qui-Gon to inform a healer of the situation. A feeling of dread enveloped his heart. If something was wrong with him, then what? He could not help but feel that a greater danger waited - patiently biding its time as destiny or fate formed each day.  
  
Qui-Gon emerged from a door, followed by Healer J'Reedon. The healer was a short man, around sixty years of age, with short gray hair. He was kind in speech and in his treatment of his patients - the things that made him a favorite of Obi-Wan.  
  
"Now, Obi-Wan, let's go take a look at you," the healer said, smiling. They were led to a room near the end of the hall. J'Reedon checked over Obi-Wan's vitals first. Then proceeded to more in-depth tests. The whole situation made the young Jedi uncomfortable. Usually, he knew why he was in here, but now they didn't know what they were looking for.  
  
"Master, can we go now," the young Jedi asked, the battle of fear and patience drawing to a close.  
  
"Obi-Wan, we're not done yet," the kind healer said as he skimmed over a data-pad.  
  
The young Jedi opened his mouth to protest, but decided against it. It would accomplish nothing - Qui-Gon would keep him here until he was sure there was no reason to.  
  
"Hmmm...." healer J'Reedon said, intently studying the results of one of the countless tests already completed. "Well... this is interesting. Very interesting indeed."  
  
"What is it," Qui-Gon inquired.  
  
The healer placed the data-pad on a metal table and approached the bed where Obi-Wan sat. "Have you been experiencing a lot of headaches, Obi-Wan?" The healer crossed his arms in anticipation.  
  
Thinking back through recent days, Obi-Wan recalled that he had. But why was that important? He looked to the healer, "Yes... I think I have." He swallowed hard, trying to keep his mind calm.  
  
J'Reedon nodded. "That's what I thought," he picked up the data-pad again and glanced at it.  
  
"What's wrong?" Qui-Gon insisted. Even the calm Master Jinn was getting impatient.  
  
"It appears that Obi-Wan has experienced a series of small mutations in his brain," J'Reedon glanced between both Jedi to gauge their understanding. Both remained silent, so he continued. "I'll make it as simple as I can. Something has caused him to lose some of his memory. And I think I know what it was... or at least partially what caused it. This last test indicates that a foreign infection - something like a virus - has entered his system and mutated in such a way as to cause memory loss. There was a catalyst that was present, too." The healer stopped, a look of concern etched on his face.  
  
Obi-Wan noticed his palms drenched in sweat and wiped them absently on his pants legs.   
  
"The catalyst was Tordoxaine," J'Reedon said bluntly.  
  
"Tordoxaine?" Qui-Gon echoed, remembering the painkiller that Obi-Wan battled to escape its addiction.  
  
"Yes, but in high dosages." J'Reedon turned to his patient, "How long did it take you to use up the first bottle, Obi-Wan?"  
  
"I... I think I used it all in a week," the young Jedi answered, embarrassed.  
  
"I see," the healer said. He turned back to Qui-Gon. "Even that much - as much of an overdose as it was - would not have been nearly enough to transform the virus in his system to what I'm seeing. He had to have had five times that much in a short time to cause such a mutation. And with that said, even Master Yoda would have trouble not getting addicted - that is, if it didn't kill him first."  
  
"Are you saying someone increased the potency of Obi-Wan's medication?" Qui-Gon asked.  
  
The healer nodded slowly. "Yes. That is exactly what I'm saying, Qui-Gon. Someone deliberately made Obi-Wan take overdoses of Tordoxaine... so that this... virus - or whatever you want to call it - could mutate, causing something like multiple, tiny strokes in his brain. The strokes caused memory loss... and confusion. I've seen one kind of virus like this that does. But this one is different. It looks engineered."  
  
"Why didn't it kill me?" Obi-Wan said, in too much shock to process all the information he was hearing.  
  
"You mean the large overdoses?" J'Reedon asked.  
  
"Yes, Healer," the young man said, dazed.  
  
"That, I'm not sure of. The only thing I can gather is that as the virus encountered the Tordoxaine, both mutated into something else. And that in itself may have caused your addiction to increase even more. So, although your body contained extreme levels of the drug, a lot of it mutated and didn't really do much more than increase your addiction. Maybe."  
  
"So the virus and the tampered medication were both present in Obi-Wan's first bottle - the one prescribed to him?" Qui-Gon asked.  
  
"It appears so. I don't think anyone else knew he was stealing medicine from our pharmacy. And even if they did, they couldn't have known which bottles he would take."  
  
"So then, someone has access to the Temple's pharmacy... and is trying to harm Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said. "I must inform the Council. We have a security breach," he turned to leave.  
  
"That's not all, Qui-Gon," the healer stopped him, placing a hand on the tall master's arm.  
  
Qui-Gon turned toward J'Reedon, waiting.  
  
The healer looked at Obi-Wan, who felt a flicker of worry from him.  
  
"I don't know how to stop this. I can see what it's doing, but... that's about all. Obi-Wan's memory will continue to fail, and I don't know how to stop or reverse it. And I don't know what will happen when... when his memory is all gone."  
  
tbc  
  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Hey, guys. I have the rough draft already finished. But, I still need to refine and proof-read each part. I will post each part as it is completed. Thank you so much for reading. 


	2. Retrogression

TITLE: PASSAGE OF FEAR  
AUTHOR: Cascadia  
TIME: 7 years pre-TPM, Obi-Wan is 18  
RATING: PG-13  
CATEGORY: Drama/Angst, Non-Slash  
SUMMARY: Someone has infected Obi-Wan with a memory-loss virus. What are their plans for him now?  
ARCHIVE: Please ask first.  
DISCLAIMER: All recognizable characters are the property of Lucasfilm Limited. All the rest belong to me. I receive absolutely no profit from this.  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is a sequel to 'Trembling in the Balance' and 'Hiding Master Sariel', but it is not necessary that you read them first to understand this story. Anything between * * are personal thoughts. Anything between / / are Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon talking through their bond.  
  
  
  
  
  
~CHAPTER 2 - RETROGRESSION~  
  
  
  
Obi-Wan sat alone in his Temple hospital room. A sense of hopelessness, nothingness, permeated the entire chamber - the white walls spotless, the crisp white sheets on the bed, the impersonal metal tables and cabinets. Ever since he heard the report from Healer J'Reedon, his hope had faded. Now it was nearly nonexistent - choked by the fear of tomorrow, of fate's claws pulling him toward a blank nothing. What did his future hold? Would he remember yesterday, or would tomorrow sweep clean a short lifetime of memories - leaving a shell with no past, and possibly no future as a Jedi.  
  
Qui-Gon had tried to talk to him, to make him not give up, but the Jedi master saw that his padawan refused to believe anything could stop the slow oblivion he was slipping into. If only Qui-Gon could take hold of his padawan's fears and tear them away, send them to an eternal damnation where they would pay for his padawan's misery. But that could not be. Fear has no conscience, no moral dilemma to choose. It simply was there - because Obi-Wan allowed it. "Turn to the Force," he had told him. "Release all your fears and doubts to it. The Force is our strength. Never try to live without it."  
  
The young man's dull thoughts were temporarily interrupted by another sharp headache. He rested his face in his hands, massaging his temples until the pain receded.   
  
Despite his growing depression, one thought was reassuring. His drug addiction was not the result of weakness - as he had so worried it was. Instead it was the initial high dosages that caused the addiction from the start. And he had not been aware that they were overdoses. It was someone else's insidious plan to bring some type of harm to him - for some hidden reason. So, he should not feel like he failed - that he was weak. Healer J'Reedon even said that Master Yoda would probably have difficulty resisting.   
  
Even so, his memory was failing, and they could do nothing about it. The mutated infection in his brain continued to spread, with no hesitation or remorse. He found that simple things were slipping his mind. What did he have for breakfast? When did he last see Qui-Gon? How fast could a gorndok run?  
  
It seemed like as soon as he tried to remember one thing, then another hole appeared in his past - gaping and torn to shreds by an unclean fiend - be it Shaitan, Asmodeus, or Lucifer - or another hideous creature worse than any nightmare. The young man stood in the wake of a hurricane where the tide of the assault grew with each passing minute.  
  
"No," he murmured to himself, trying to deny what he knew was happening.   
  
  
~~~  
  
  
Qui-Gon stood in the center of the Council's chambers, surrounded by the twelve council members. It was customary to first get permission to speak with the Council, but Qui-Gon had burst in demanding an immediate audition. Heeding the tall master's request - or exaction - they listened in polite interest as he informed them of the dire situation with Obi-Wan, as well as the threat of a possible intruder inside the Temple. When he was finished, he turned his attention to Master Yoda.  
  
The little green creature raised heavy eyelids, peering into the depths of Qui-Gon's darkened eyes. "Know he does, of his memory loss?" the wise master asked, reading the pain so plainly displayed in the tall man's eyes.  
  
"Yes, Master," was all Qui-Gon could say, his voice nearly choking. He could not speak of Obi-Wan's hope gone, but all in the room could sense the heavy curtain threatening to fall.  
  
Yoda looked to Mace Windu, seated to his left. Exchanging an unspoken comment, the two apparently came to a quick agreement before Mace spoke up. "Qui-Gon, we will do all we can about this intruder. Right now, your apprentice needs you with him. Return to his side now." Mace managed a small reassuring smile.  
  
Sensing their genuine concern Qui-Gon replied, "yes, masters. I will go." He bowed awkwardly and left the room.   
  
After the doors slid shut, Yoda spoke up. "Send a team to investigate the medication tampering, we will."  
  
"Master Nima and padawan Torani, I would suggest," Master Even Piell recommended. "They have investigated breaches in Temple security before."  
  
"If this happened three months ago, then the person could well be far from here by now," Mace said. "However, we need to check out all possibilities. If they aren't still here, they could have left some evidence to help us solve this puzzle." He pulled a com-link from beneath his robe and clicked it on. "Place the Temple on highest security. We may have an intruder."  
  
"Yes, Master," came a muffled voice from the communicator.  
  
  
~~~  
  
  
Rousella Merald approached the woman seated behind the data-terminal, studiously engrossed in what she was reading. She knew to wait until the elder woman spoke before saying anything. The lesson had been learned from years of scolding - and arguing.   
  
The woman was nearly forty - her retained beauty blossoming despite her age. Her dark-tanned features paled only by her deep brown hair and eyes. Noli was a long-time acquaintance to Rousella, raising her nearly from adolescence. But the younger woman did not think of Noli as her mother - rather as an example to live up to... or rather to exceed. They bore no resemblance to one another either. Where Noli was average in build with strong, handsome features, Rousella was slender and delicate in appearance - and no less beautiful. Her blonde hair and pale features contrasted Noli's dark exotic aura.  
  
"What is it, Rousella?" Noli asked, never looking at her. Tucking a loose lock of brown hair behind her ear, she stared at the data-screen.   
  
"The Jedi are aware of our project, Noli. We have to act now," the younger woman cautioned, stepping closer.  
  
Noli continued to stare at the screen, testing the younger woman's patience. After a half minute of silence, she turned her eyes to the younger woman, boring through. "What happened? How do they know?" Irritation was evident in her tone - with just a slight amount of anger.  
  
"I think the young Jedi has advanced further along than we anticipated. He will be ready before we are." Rousella watched Noli's eyes, searching for any emotion in their fathomless depths.   
  
The elder woman smiled, her eyes remaining stoic. "Then we will have to speed up our plans, won't we, Rousella?" Turning her gaze back to the data-screen, she cut off the conversation by her usual implication for dismissal.  
  
"Yes, I will go prepare," she started to leave.  
  
"Rousella," Noli stopped her. "Don't lose him. If they move him somewhere, we have to be able to find him," she warned, turning her face back to the younger woman.  
  
"Yes, Noli. I know." Facing her again, Rousella could read the triumph on Noli's face. She had never seemed so happy in all the times the young woman had seen her before. Not even raising Rousella as her own child had given her that kind of joy. She was much too consumed by her work - and her greed - to ever feel anything special for another person.   
  
"Well," Noli sounded annoyed. "Why are you still here? Go make sure we don't lose him." She stared arrogantly at the younger woman.  
  
Rousella nodded and left the room.  
  
  
~~~   
  
  
"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon entered the hospital room. Noting the look of hopelessness on his padawan's face, he drew the young Jedi into a firm hug. Obi-Wan didn't resist, but he didn't respond either. Worried, Qui-Gon released him and gazed into the young man's eyes. "Obi-Wan?" he prodded, desperately wanting any kind of a reaction.  
  
Raising his eyes to meet the Jedi master's, Obi-Wan blinked back a single tear, trying to hide its existence. Qui-Gon noticed it, but made no indication that he had.  
  
"Master," the young man's voice said, hollow and unfeeling.  
  
"Padawan. Would you like to go for a walk in the Room of a Thousand Fountains?" Qui-Gon tried to smile.  
  
With a blank expression on his face, Obi-Wan replied, "can we, Master? Before..." his voice trailed off. His eyes betrayed a range of emotions, stopping at the same hopeless one he wore when Qui-Gon entered the room.  
  
"Yes, padawan," the Jedi master answered, sadness lying beneath his outer appearance. "I'll make sure we can do whatever you want."  
  
Qui-Gon helped Obi-Wan out of bed and into his tunic, pants, boots, and robe. Then they left the hospital ward unnoticed.  
  
The beauty of the Room of Thousand Fountains did little to cheer the despondent padawan. Obi-Wan followed his master's lead through the perfect landscape. He walked about, absently looking at the ground before him - Qui-Gon at his side.   
  
Finally, they seated themselves on a wrought iron bench with a view of a large fountain trinkling droplets in an enormous pool below. The sound of water and the smell of breathing flora filled the entire conservatory.  
  
Several silent minutes passed before Qui-Gon broke the quiet. "Obi-Wan, do you remember the first time you and I sat on this same bench together?" He watched the young Jedi frown as he tried to remember that specific event.  
  
"Yes, Master," his said quietly, his eyes glued to the fountain. Obi-Wan's thoughts drifted to years past, sifting through bits of memories he could recall. He thought he could still remember most things, but was sure that little pieces were missing here and there.  
  
"We sat here for hours, padawan, and talked about the Force," Qui-Gon reminisced. "About how the Force has a place for us, a destiny for each one to meet." He glanced back at Obi-Wan. The young Jedi appeared to be deep in his thoughts. "You have so much more that the Force has planned for you, padawan. Don't give up yet," he encouraged.  
  
Obi-Wan sighed deeply. "I don't think I have anything else to give, Master. The Force is through with me now." Although he said it, he was not sure if he believed it or not. It just came out - out of the hopeless mindset that he had allowed himself to adopt.  
  
"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon grabbed the young Jedi's shoulders, pulling him to face him. "Don't even think something like that. I know - you know - that there is more in your future." His eyes sought any sign of understanding in the young man's face.  
  
Obi-Wan dropped his gaze. Shame and hopelessness played behind his eyes. He glanced back up when the Jedi master released his shoulders. Qui-Gon was now peering away from him. Obi-Wan feared that he had let the man down... again, as he always seemed to do.   
  
A sudden ache in his head elicited a small groan from the young Jedi. He pressed the sides of his head, trying to quell the pain, but it was gone in a few seconds.  
  
"Are you hurting, padawan?" Qui-Gon asked, concerned.  
  
"Yes, Master. But it's gone now," Obi-Wan tried to shrug it off, but Qui-Gon could see that the attack only left behind more hopelessness. Tears threatened to spill from the young man's eyes, so he lifted his head trying to keep them from falling. Finally, the young Jedi lost the battle for composure, and a small broken sob escaped his defenses.  
  
Qui-Gon pulled his padawan close to him, wrapping the young man up in his arms. He gently rubbed Obi-Wan's back, as the young Jedi sobbed quietly against his chest.   
  
A short time later, Qui-Gon saw Jedi Knight Zaritus standing in the distance. The young knight seemed to be purposely keeping a distance from he and Obi-Wan - perhaps waiting until his apprentice regained control of his emotions.   
  
Obi-Wan's breathing became steadier as his sobs stopped, but his breaths were still labored. The young Jedi pushed himself away from Qui-Gon - his head down. "Will I be able to complete my training, Master?" he quietly asked, his eyes searching Qui-Gon's for an answer. If this virus ran its course, then Obi-Wan would have to relearn everything - making him a very old padawan by the time he faced his trials to reach knighthood. Would Qui-Gon want to start from scratch and teach him everything again? Or... was it too much trouble, too much to handle?  
  
"We will do what we can," Qui-Gon said, attempting to salvage his padawan's mind from slipping into a blackness of defeat. He knew Obi-Wan was stronger than this. The young Jedi just needed to keep his center on the Force.  
  
"You're not disappointed in me, Master? I'm... not too much trouble?" Obi-Wan asked hesitantly. He did not want to resign himself to his insecurity. As it was, he was teetering dangerously on the edge of losing all of his moorings - to be set adrift in a vast sea of despair. And only Qui-Gon - and the Force - could keep him from sinking.  
  
"No, Obi-Wan. Don't ever think such a thing," Qui-Gon reassured - projecting a calm resolve of certainty and fathomless love - as he watched a figure approach.   
  
Receiving the projected feelings from his master, the young man felt more sure that Qui-Gon did not blame him for this illness - or the addiction - and that his master would not abandon him, no matter how dire the circumstance. A slight ray of relief and security danced gently in his mind, bringing a newfound strength to combat the attacks of the aggressor. Sensing the knight near, Obi-Wan quickly dropped his gaze to the ground and fell silent.   
  
"Qui-Gon," Zaritus said in his baritone voice. "I've been assigned to keep an eye on you and Obi-Wan. If there is any danger to either of you, I will do what I can to protect you from it. The Temple's been placed on high alert, because of this... attack." Zaritus' dark hair was black... or brown depending on the way the lighting touched it, and his blue eyes sparkled with energy. At times, he reminded Qui-Gon of his former padawan, Xanatos - but only in appearance, never in demeanor.  
  
"Thank you, Zaritus, " Qui-Gon said. "We should return to the healers, Obi-Wan. They didn't know we left or where we went."  
  
Zaritus laughed. "I had trouble finding the both of you," he said. "You should let someone know before you wander off somewhere."  
  
The three Jedi left the Room of a Thousand Fountains and returned to the Temple hospital. Qui-Gon led Obi-Wan back to the bed, insisting that he lay down to rest. Zaritus remained outside the door - on guard against any threat.  
  
Just as the young Jedi settled under the crisp sheets, Healer J'Reedon entered the room, wearing a cheerful look. "Obi-Wan," he started, "I have contacted a medical researcher on Jatamansi who specializes in viral research. I requested that he see you to see if he can find any weakness or solution to this... sickness," he finished, not quite sure if he worded it in a positive way. As far as the healer could see, this was probably Obi-Wan's last hope. And he dearly wanted the young apprentice to keep alive some hope.   
  
Staring at the healer, Obi-Wan felt a faint spark of hope ignite deep in his heart, and the dread that had entangled itself there shook from uncertainty.  
  
Qui-Gon regained his voice first. "Do you know this man, or is he just renowned for his abilities?"  
  
"I have met him on various occasions. He is well respected in the medical field... and well trusted." The healer glanced at Obi-Wan - who still looked uncertain. "I think that if anyone can help, it would be him."  
  
  
~~~  
  
  
The shuttle was ready to leave by nightfall. It had been a long day for both master and padawan, and the close of the day was welcomed by the master. But to the padawan... it felt like his life was drawing near to a close. This day was a nightmare - a nightmare that he would not wake from. Fate had sealed the doors behind him, and now he was trapped - never to escape, never to return to yesterday. The icy fingers of hopelessness caressed his heart - welcoming a bitter end to all of its victim's past.  
  
Obi-Wan trudged in a sleeping cabin, stopping in the doorway, staring at nothing in particular. Qui-Gon's voice speaking to Zaritus drew him from his daze. He sat heavily on the sleep couch, dropping his travel bag on the floor with a thud. A small headache surfaced, causing him to stiffen - more from the thought of what was taking place than from the actual pain itself. He fell to his side as the pain abated.  
  
"Obi-Wan?" concern lined Qui-Gon's voice. He knelt by the sleep couch of his padawan.  
  
Obi-Wan opened his eyes, but did not look at his master. "What is it, Master?" his voice weary.  
  
"Padawan," Qui-Gon tried to think of something positive to say, but all he could think of were only things to make Obi-Wan think about his condition. No, he could not ask how he was feeling, if there was anything he could do. "Padawan," he tried again, "you need to get some rest."  
  
Panic erupted through their bond. "No, Master," Obi-Wan protested. "If I sleep, then I'll remember less when I wake up, than I do now."   
  
Qui-Gon saw deep pain flood Obi-Wan's eyes and could not find any foothold for an argument. If Obi-Wan wanted to stay awake, then he would let him. He knew the young Jedi was exhausted and could not hold out for long. So he sat on the edge of the sleep couch and talked about his old master dragging him into antique shops on every mission. Obi-Wan simply laid still, listening - like a young child listening to an elder's stories of long ago.  
  
It was not long before the young Jedi fell asleep. Feeling the young man needed help for a good rest, Qui-Gon pressed him into a deeper sleep.   
  
In the morning, Qui-Gon checked on Obi-Wan finding him still asleep - but he wasn't concerned. The young man needed rest.  
  
  
~~~  
  
  
Jatamansi was not a far away planet. Near Coruscant and the core worlds, it was a densely populated, diversified composite of numerous cultures - exotic and dangerous alike. The Jatamasion government encouraged the diversity - even paying subsidies to off-planet companies who would reestablish their base of operations on Jatamansi. This action alone imported billions of credits into the local system - creating a booming and prosperous economy. It also brought with it a populace looking for wealth, power, and opportunity.  
  
Qui-Gon had been here on a few occasions before, but never with his padawan. Most of his previous encounters with the social populace ended in trouble. There were pugnacious dregs looking for calamity, and Jedi status did not keep one from being picked as a target. Jata, the capital, was the worst place on the planet.  
  
Obi-Wan usually enjoyed seeing different planets - one of the benefits of being a Jedi - but in his present state he had mixed feelings of learning about a new culture. Why should he learn about something he will probably forget? However, it could be used as an escape from this present reality. He numbly followed Qui-Gon from the shuttle, through the Jata spaceport, and aboard a transit. Sitting next to a viewport, he watched the buildings and varied races pass by as the transit crawled its way to the medical facility. Qui-Gon sat next to him, with Zaritus on the other side of the aisle.   
  
"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon began. "We're almost there. This planet reminds me of Kiradess," he said, staring at the cityscape passing by.  
  
The young Jedi frowned at the comment. "What's Kiradess, Master?"  
  
"It's where we..." he trailed off, remembering that Obi-Wan had already forgotten some things. Attempting to steer clear of answering the question, Qui-Gon pointed to an odd shaped building as they passed. "See that building there? It looks just like the Academy of Astronomical Physics on Lattisini. I'll bet they copied it from there."   
  
Obi-Wan's gaze fell to his lap. He may be forgetting things, but he was not stupid. "Master, I know what you're doing. Kiradess is someplace we've been, isn't it?"   
  
The Jedi master felt trapped. He didn't want to contribute to Obi-Wan's depression, but he didn't want to lie to him either. "Yes, padawan," he replied flatly.  
  
A sudden pain at the back of his head made Obi-Wan moan. Massaging the ache, he closed his eyes to concentrate on the Force. *The Force is my ally,* he told himself. He felt waves of the Force's power swirling, relaxing him.   
  
  
~~~  
  
  
The Nuplass Medical Research Center was located in the heart of Jata's industrial zone. Perched on a high hill, the building seemed to watch over a valley of billowing smoke, which fumed from the mass of industrial complexes below. The pinkish-gray stone walls carved an august presence with a classical aura. It most definitely appeared out of place.  
  
The transit stopped about a block from the facility. Following the crowd of passengers, the three Jedi emerged from the transit - Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan in the lead, with Zaritus following.  
  
Obi-Wan noticed a canorous cry from overhead. Looking up, he noticed a swarm of colorful, winged creatures chasing playfully through the air. Teal, chartreuse, and plum feathers graced the lengthy wingspan of each avian. It was a temporary, sweet escape from the apprehension that plagued him. He watched the creatures until they flew out of sight - and reality set back in.  
  
Climbing the steps to the front entrance, they came into the lobby. A counter lined one side of the room, while a varied collection of chairs was haphazardly scattered across the other side.  
  
As Qui-Gon approached the counter, a short rodian popped her head up from behind.   
  
"What can I do for you, sir?" she asked politely.  
  
"We've been referred to Researcher Garil Dubelt," the tall Jedi master replied.   
  
The rodian secretary slid behind a data terminal. "What is the patient's name, sir?" she asked, turning her face up to meet the eyes of Qui-Gon.  
  
"Obi-Wan Kenobi," he said quietly, as if he was afraid of his apprentice hearing him. Glancing around at his fellow Jedi, he saw they were seated in the chairs - Obi-Wan looking like he wanted to crawl under the chair and hide instead of sit in it.  
  
"Yes, I found the name here," the secretary said, bringing Qui-Gon's attention back to her. "Have a seat sir, and I'll call you when the researcher's available." She turned and left the room through a doorway behind the counter.  
  
  
~~~  
  
  
"Where is he now?" Noli demanded.  
  
Rousella could read the anger in her eyes. "They've taken him to Jatamansi... to see some kind of a specialist."  
  
Standing, Noli walked around the table where she had been sitting and stopped right in front of the younger woman. Noli could be very intimidating, but Rousella was not in the least afraid. Meeting the young woman's eyes with an icy stare, Noli calmly said, "fortunately, there's no way they can reverse it, Rousella. Bring him here. We need to get started."  
  
"Yes, Noli," she replied. "They've followed the Jedi there. We'll have him soon."  
  
  
  
tbc  
  
  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I know that was a little slow, but it will pick up. I'll probably have the next part up in 2 or 3 days. Thank you all so much for all of your comments. 


	3. Fading

TITLE: PASSAGE OF FEAR  
AUTHOR: Cascadia  
TIME: 7 years pre-TPM, Obi-Wan is 18  
RATING: PG-13  
CATEGORY: Drama/Angst, Non-Slash  
SUMMARY: Someone has infected Obi-Wan with a memory-loss virus. What are their plans for him now?  
ARCHIVE: Please ask first.  
DISCLAIMER: All recognizable characters are the property of Lucasfilm Limited. All the rest belong to me. I receive absolutely no profit from this.  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Anything between * * are personal thoughts. Anything between / / are Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon talking through their bond.  
  
  
  
  
  
~CHAPTER 3 - FADING~  
  
  
  
The tiny room they had taken Obi-Wan to looked like every other hospital room. The Nuplass Medical Research Center was mostly a place of intense study - for developing new cures and procedures - rather than a patient center. But there were a few rooms set aside for those who were directed here, usually by other healers. *Is this how the rest of my life will be?* he wondered. He was alone in the room except for Qui-Gon, who was busy inspecting the hanging wall art. *They always put some stupid picture up to make you forget why you're here,* he thought, exasperated.  
  
"What are you doing, Master?" the young Jedi blurted out, sounding rude even to his own ears.  
  
Qui-Gon turned around slowly, eyeing the young man seated on the patient bed. "Would you like to talk, padawan?" he asked, as he sat in a chair beside the bed where the young man sat. He knew this was all getting to Obi-Wan. After coming this far to see a specialist, and then have to wait entirely too long in a tiny room to find out whether they can help you or not was not a halcyon situation.   
  
"No, Master. I don't want to talk." Obi-Wan's patience was gone. "And I don't want to be here. Can we go home, Master. I don't think they can do anything. Look," he gestured towards the door, his brow furrowed, "they don't even want to see me," he argued. "We've been here longer than it takes an acridiff to give birth."   
  
Chuckling, Qui-Gon leaned fully back in the chair. "Obi-Wan. I think you need to relax," he glanced at the young Jedi - who still wore a frown. "We will stay here until I've decided to leave."  
  
A vacuum of silence filled the room. Obi-Wan continued his angry stare at his master, until he felt another headache. Covering his face with his hands, the young Jedi tried to ignore the pain. It did not last long, but the pain of knowing what was happening lingered.  
  
"Master," Obi-Wan whispered.   
  
Standing, Qui-Gon rested his hands on the young Jedi's shoulders. "Obi-Wan, we will see what the researcher has to say. Then... if you still want to go home, we will. Is that alright, padawan?"  
  
Leaning into Qui-Gon's chest, Obi-Wan nodded.  
  
  
~~~  
  
  
Master Yoda sat in a chair in the living area of Mace Windu's quarters. The wise, old little master tapped his gimer stick methodically on the edge of the seat cushion. Mace sat across from him, relaxing on a plush sofa with a mug of ardees in his hand.  
  
"They found the data-terminal where the Temple's records were broken into - Kenobi's file in particular. But how could someone have gotten into the healer's ward so easily... without being noticed and tampered with prescriptions in the pharmacy?" Mace questioned out loud.  
  
"Not known yet, is that," Yoda said, resting his chin on the top of his stick. "But, gone are they now. Known, that much is."  
  
"And... why would they do something like this? There has to be some good reason they would cause this to happen to Kenobi. I don't think it was some sort of revenge thing. I think there's more to this than we know."  
  
"Revenge, it was not. A plan, have they. In danger, young Kenobi is," the little master closed his big eyes in concentration. The Force surged around them, causing Mace to still himself as the waves came in an onslaught. Then, it was gone as quickly as it came.  
  
"You know something," Mace stated.  
  
"Seen that his future is threatened, I have. Understand it, I do not," Yoda said sadly.  
  
  
~~~  
  
  
"Well, let's see what we can do," Researcher Dubelt said, as he walked into the tiny patient room. He stopped next to the bed, automatically checking Obi-Wan's wrist for a heart rate. Dubelt was an average-sized man, around seventy years of age, but still in healthy form.  
  
The young Jedi sighed heavily. He was so tired of being examined. Gazing at the ceiling, he tried to ignore the researcher's ministrations.   
  
"Now, did you bring Healer J'Reedon's test results?" he turned, asking Qui-Gon.  
  
"Yes, I have them right here." Qui-Gon handed the data chip to the researcher.  
  
Dubelt placed the chip in a data reader. Staring at the results for several minutes, Dubelt made no comments, but remained silent. "When did you first notice the headaches?" he asked, facing Obi-Wan.  
  
"Uh... " the young Jedi paused, thinking.  
  
"About a month ago," Qui-Gon supplied.  
  
Obi-Wan lowered his gaze to the floor. He could not remember how long ago the headaches had started, but Qui-Gon knew. At some time he must have told his master, but he did not even remember telling him that.  
  
"About a month..." the researcher repeated to himself. Looking at Qui-Gon, he said, "this definitely looks like a new strain... of something. I'll need to go look it up." Dubelt turned to Obi-Wan, "I want you to stay nearby, so I can contact you if I need to. These rooms are not made for a patient to stay overnight. And the Center closes around dusk.... You understand?"  
  
Obi-Wan nodded sheepishly.  
  
"Please, don't think I don't take this seriously," Dubelt continued. "I know you want to get this taken care of as soon as possible. I'll put all my free time into this. I promise. Now," he helped Obi-Wan off the bed, "get as much rest as you can. I'll get started on this now. Do you have a place to stay," he asked Qui-Gon.  
  
"No, not yet," Qui-Gon stood.  
  
"There's a nice hostel in the heart of Jata... the Quarter Moon, it's called. I can get you a reservation if you want," Dubelt asked Qui-Gon.  
  
"We don't want to put you to any trouble, sir," Qui-Gon replied politely.  
  
"It's no trouble. I'll go do it right now." The researcher motioned for them to leave, and then followed them out. At the lobby's counter he contacted the hostel and made reservations for two suites - one for Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan and the other for Knight Zaritus.  
  
"Thank you," Qui-Gon told Dubelt, as he paid the rodian secretary for their visit.  
  
Obi-Wan wondered if this researcher could help him. The man certainly sounded like he thought he could. The young Jedi grasped onto the tiny shred of hope dangling before him - desperately wanting to believe restoration would come.   
  
  
~~~  
  
  
The Quarter Moon hostel was located in the old part of Jata. The buildings in that section all had the same type of architecture - from before the massive influx of cultures. Smooth, dark stone walls - capped by finely crafted domes and minarets - stood side by side, squeezed together, using as much space as possible for living. Although this section of Jata was the oldest part, it had not run down. It appeared bustling with activity.   
  
Just about a block from the Quarter Moon, Entertainment District began. It was a strange shift in appearance from Old Town Jata. There, everything was bright, flashing, and loud. Huge signs beckoned passers-by to taste of its favors - food, gambling, and everything else. That was where the worst trouble could be found.  
  
Obi-Wan followed Qui-Gon into the hostel - Zaritus trailing behind. It was a fine establishment - elegantly decorated with antique furnishings from the most respected designers. Even the wide corridors displayed hanging tapestries and plush sofas and chairs. Obi-Wan marveled at its refinement.   
  
"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon motioned the young Jedi into the suite. Obi-Wan absently entered the room, stopping just inside the door - his eyes tightly shut, pain evident on his face.  
  
"Master, I don't feel well. I wish this was all just a bad dream," Obi-Wan said, his eyes still closed.  
  
Taking his padawan's travel bag from his hand, Qui-Gon moved further into the room, placing their luggage near a dresser. Then, he gently pulled Obi-Wan into a side room and sat him down on a large, wooden antique bed that creaked as he sat on it.  
  
"Master, I don't want to go to bed," the young Jedi's eyes pleaded. "Please, Master."  
  
Looking into his padawan's eyes made Qui-Gon's heart break. How could this be happening to his apprentice... to Obi-Wan? He sighed, knowing he would give in to the young man he considered his son. "Alright, Obi-Wan. You don't have to. What do you want to do?"  
  
The young Jedi smiled. Recalling that he had not seen Obi-Wan smile since before this nightmare started, Qui-Gon could not help but smile himself. Obi-Wan's blue eyes seemed to light up, instantly cheering the Jedi master with Obi-Wan's sudden joy.  
  
"Master," Obi-Wan said, "I want to go see what Jata is like. It looks so interesting, Master." Now the young man was interested in seeing the sights. Subconsciously he was trying to escape the reality of his illness. If he could cram his life with as many experiences as possible, then he would not think of his dismal future.   
  
Qui-Gon felt a slight twitch from the Force. This did not seem like a good idea. Most of Qui-Gon's previous experiences here were not pleasant. "Obi-Wan, I'm not sure that is such a good idea," he stopped just as the young Jedi's face grew somber.  
  
Obi-Wan dropped his gaze to the floor. He was afraid that this was his last opportunity to have any fun before.... He tried not to think of it. It was much too overwhelming. A flood of fear and doubt of the future swept through him. Shivering from the mere thought of that, he turned away from Qui-Gon.  
  
"Obi-Wan," the Jedi master appealed. "This is not a nice place. There are a lot of terrible things that happen here."  
  
"I'm a Jedi, Master," the young Jedi spat. "I'm not a little child anymore. I'm almost..." he paused, unable to recall his age. "I can take care of myself," he softly insisted.  
  
"Obi-Wan, what about..." he trailed off, not knowing whether to bring it up or not - although they both knew what was on both of their minds.  
  
"I know," Obi-Wan whispered. "But that doesn't mean I have to quit living, does it?"   
  
Qui-Gon sighed, knowing he would give in to Obi-Wan again. He loved the young man as a son, but that also meant that he had a responsibility to him. If he gave in to everything the young Jedi wanted, then what kind of master - or father - would he be. And the Force seemed to be sending him a warning, as well. Perhaps if he kept a close eye on Obi-Wan, then everything would be fine. Maybe....  
  
Obi-Wan stared at the carpet, noticing for the first time that it was some sort of satiny embroidered cloth - very expensive. The deep blues melted into moss greens, contrasting against lustered coppers and creams. His eyes followed the complex, floral pattern trailing under Qui-Gon's boots. Then he lifted his head to meet the master's gaze, and was surprised to find Qui-Gon's eyes closed. Serenity shone on his face. Was the man listening to the Force? Obi-Wan wondered.  
  
Did Qui-Gon have a good reason to keep him locked up? Was the Force telling him to stay put - where he would be safe? Obi-Wan wasn't sure - in his reckless determination to live before he forgot how - whether he cared or not. No, he did not want to do anything a noble Jedi would not do. But to stay hidden away - afraid - until this... thing... destroyed him was not what he desired.   
  
"Master," Obi-Wan broke the silence. He looked up at Qui-Gon again, seeing that the Jedi master's eyes rested on him now. "I want to do... something. I don't want to stay here."  
  
Qui-Gon considered what the Force seemed to be saying. It would not be wise to let Obi-Wan wander on his own. If he was watched closely - and they stayed away from Entertainment District - then perhaps it would be fine. "Very well, Obi-Wan. We can see Jata. But stay close to me. And don't disobey me. Do everything I tell you. Is that understood, padawan?"  
  
"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan answered enthusiastically.  
  
The three Jedi strolled down the sidewalk from the hostel, heading toward a large museum complex. Qui-Gon walked beside Obi-Wan, with Zaritus on the other side. The place was picked by Qui-Gon. He had been there before on a previous trip to this planet. The Jata Fine Arts Museum housed a composite of art objects from across the galaxy. It was one of the most diverse collections in the Core Worlds - excelled only by Coruscant's vast miscellany. Qui-Gon knew that Obi-Wan would enjoy seeing the museum - as he himself had years ago with his own master.   
  
Breathing in the cool air, Obi-Wan suddenly felt more alive. He was free, leaving behind the worries of his future. "Master," said Obi-Wan, obviously ecstatic to be doing something. "Could we eat somewhere later, somewhere other than the hostel, someplace out," he gestured outward to the city at large.   
  
"I suppose so, Obi-Wan. But we must be careful," Qui-Gon advised.   
  
"Thank you, Master," the young Jedi smiled gratefully.  
  
The museum was a learning experience to nearly all its visitors, offering Obi-Wan his first glimpse of the huge rain drums used by the Kajoti tribe, long extinct from Trusca III. He had read of the tribe's enormous percussive instruments, but seeing them in person was invigorating.  
  
"Master, these were actually used by the tribe millennia ago." The young Jedi could hardly conceal his excitement. "See on the side," he pointed to several small wooden footholds, "those were used to climb to the top of the drum."  
  
"Yes, padawan," Qui-Gon answered. He was glad to know that Obi-Wan was enjoying himself.  
  
A dull ache traveled from the base of the young Jedi's skull around to his temples. Obi-Wan moaned, leaning against the nearby wall, holding his head. This pain was different than the ones before. It seemed to bring with it an overwhelming dizziness not present before.  
  
Instantly Qui-Gon was there, squeezing Obi-Wan's arm. "Are you okay, padawan?" he asked, concerned. He tightened his grip when he felt the young Jedi sliding down the wall. Qui-Gon gently lowered him to the floor.  
  
"I'll be fine, Master," Obi-Wan whispered, as the pain lessened. "It's gone now," he sighed in relief.  
  
Qui-Gon considered if it were such a good idea to be out like this. Obi-Wan might need his rest. He might have to order his apprentice to stay at the hostel - even though the young Jedi would not like it. "Obi-Wan, perhaps we should return to the hostel."  
  
  
"But you said we could eat out somewhere," the young man pleaded.   
  
Qui-Gon studied the hurt on Obi-Wan's face. Maybe they could eat somewhere and then return to the hostel where Obi-Wan could rest. That sounded reasonable. "Yes, Obi-Wan. We will eat, but then we will return to the hostel where you will rest."  
  
Seemingly satisfied, Obi-Wan smiled. Qui-Gon helped him to his feet, and then they went in search for Zaritus.   
  
Out on the sidewalk, the three Jedi headed toward a nearby restaurant. The sun was setting. Purple hues spread watery across the sky, with a bright, bold illumination behind. A strange, surreal-like atmosphere settled upon Jata. There was an old legend here that spoke of the city as turning into another one at night - where the cheery, bustling Jata became a dark, foreboding place of deception and grave peril. But that mostly applied to Entertainment District, Qui-Gon assumed. Most of the city was not too terrible. Yet, Qui-Gon knew the Force was definitely warning him.  
  
Tchero's was located about a block from the museum with Entertainment District looming in the distance. The little restaurant served some of the finest cuisine in Jata, in Qui-Gon's opinion. And it was a safe place to eat - unlike the establishments a few blocks from here.  
  
Sitting at a small table, the three Jedi sank into the small paper menus offered by a polite waitress. Everything was described in such mouth-watering details that Obi-Wan had a hard time deciding which item to order. Perhaps he would try something new.   
  
"Master," Obi-Wan spoke up. "I need to go to the 'fresher. Could you order for me?" Obi-Wan asked.  
  
"Alright, Obi-Wan. What do you want?" Qui-Gon said, still studying the menu himself.  
  
"I want the special, Master," Obi-Wan said, smirking.  
  
Qui-Gon searched the menu for his padawan's choice. Then he frowned. "You want...." Qui-Gon trailed off in unbelief.  
  
"Yes, Master. I want the Parth steak, with all the sauces," Obi-Wan explained.  
  
"And the four side dishes?" Qui-Gon said, still skeptical. "Are you sure you can handle it, Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon searched his padawan's eyes - which sparkled with glee.  
  
"No, Master. But I can try, can't I?" Obi-Wan knew he was trying to experience too much all at once, but he feared that this virus which was wiping his memory would take his future - or his life. And in his desperation he wanted to live as much as he could before that happened. He stood and left to find the 'fresher.  
  
A short time later, as the young Jedi was about to exit the 'fresher, a wave of faintness enveloped him. He sank to his knees, trying to remain conscious. He noticed that the new attacks of the virus were different and coming with more frequency. When the faintness finally abated somewhat, he rose to his feet, trying to remember where he was. Obi-Wan realized that he could not recall how he ended up here.   
  
The young Jedi stood and left the 'fresher, using walls for support. Once outside in the corridor, he stumbled, still trying to stay vertical - for the dizziness lingered.   
  
A cook walking down the corridor towards him saw Obi-Wan stumble. "Come on," the cook grumbled. "This is not where you belong." Thinking the young Jedi was a drunk that had wandered into the restaurant, the burly cook pulled Obi-Wan towards an exit to the side of the restaurant.   
  
"Hey, I'm not drunk," Obi-Wan said, vexed. He realized how it must have seemed to the cook, so he tried to keep his cool.  
  
"Sure," said the cook, humoring the young Jedi. "Get out of here," he ordered, pushing Obi-Wan through the side door and closing the door behind him.  
  
Obi-Wan fell to his hands. A sudden dizzy spell fell upon him, bringing a blackening haze invading his mind. Attempting to stand, he leaned heavily against a wall. Then he started out from the wynd, toward the street. Unable to remember where he was or how he got here, Obi-Wan glanced up and down the street. Then he wandered out across the street.  
  
  
~~~  
  
  
Four shadows crept through Jata's darkening streets, ignoring any passers-by. They had a purpose, and their determination bled through their ambulation. More than one party took extra care in avoiding their path. Dressed in dark clothes, the four moved like cacodemons bent to take their prey. One unfortunate soul accidentally bumped into one of them, earning a swift slash by a creese-dagger. Wounded, the poor man staggered away, leaving a trail of blood.  
  
Rounding a corner they stopped, spying a figure coming near. The newest curmudgeon cautiously slowed its pace, coming to a halt a few feet from the foursome.  
  
"Where is he?" gruffly asked the tallest of the group.   
  
"There," the newest addition said, pointing toward a small establishment, his hand shaking, "in the restaurant." He lowered his voice. "There are two others with him. He will be difficult to take."  
  
"We will take him," the first speaker pressed. "Or we will die trying."  
  
"Wait," one of them with a bass voice interrupted. "Look, he is coming out to us," a smile evident from his voice.  
  
The five conspirators watched skeptically as the object of their conversation wandered hesitantly into the street, glancing about nervously.  
  
Obi-Wan was in such a state of confusion that he did not think to call for Qui-Gon. He simply drifted aimlessly across the street and down another sidewalk. Noting a greasy smell in the air, he realized that he was hungry - for he had not eaten yet, and did not recall that Qui-Gon and Zaritus waited for him in Tchero's.  
  
A small crowd trickled from one particular eatery, leaving in a rush of sound and motion. Disappearing down the street, the patrons were gone from sight before Obi-Wan stopped in front of the place. He looked the place over, searching for any sign of possible danger. He kept up a guard around himself - sending out Force tendrils periodically, sensing if peril crept near.   
  
The little eatery, called Tracer's, looked safe enough to the young Jedi. There were small tables, booths, and a slick bar. The overall appearance was innocence and youth. He walked slowly inside, stopping to scan the room. The place was about a third full - the guests mostly young.   
  
Sliding in a booth seat, Obi-Wan sat so he could see the exit. A small alien of a race he could not identify stopped beside the booth. "What do you want?" a soft voice asked.  
  
"What do you have?" the young Jedi asked.  
  
The waitress handed him a small menu, which Obi-Wan noticed he could not read. Panic erupted in his mind. He recognized some of the Aurebesh characters, so he should understand it, but he did not.   
  
"I'll have this one," he pointed to an item on the menu, hoping it was something he would like. "And, I want," he pointed to the beverage that a patron in the next booth had, "that to drink." The waitress nodded and left. Just how much had he forgotten already? If he couldn't read, then what else?   
  
An eruption of laughter interrupted his musings. Glancing around the room, Obi-Wan saw a young couple laughing at a table near the wall. Overall, the eatery was quiet, except for an occasional outbreak of laughter from that young couple. Still, he kept up his guard.  
  
The waitress deposited the drink and food on the table and left. The food he ordered was some kind of sandwich. Sifting through its contents, he decided it was safe enough to eat - although he didn't recognize the meat. When he was nearly finished eating, a sudden ache rose near the back of his head. It was gone as quickly as it came, but left behind a lingering haze in his thoughts. His heart pounding, he jumped up from the booth, moving towards the exit.  
  
"Hey," the waitress' voice said sharply, "you going to pay or not?"  
  
Hesitantly, Obi-Wan pulled some credits from his pocket and held them out to her. She scowled at the proffered daktaries. Adding more to the ones in his palm, the young Jedi extended his hand to her again. Regarding him warily, the waitress grabbed the credits and walked away.  
  
Obi-Wan tramped out onto the sidewalk. Surveying the street, he tried to remember which way to go... wherever he needed to go. He did not think he was on Coruscant - but he was not sure of anything anymore. He did remember about the virus destroying his memories. But just how much had he forgotten?   
  
A vague feeling of danger penetrated his senses. He turned right and started walking down the sidewalk, hoping he was going the right way to find his master. Where was Qui-Gon, anyway? Did he know where Obi-Wan was? Was he searching for him? The young Jedi felt that Qui-Gon did not know.   
  
As he walked down the street, the haze in his brain seemed to grow. Small fuzzy pains erupted like a series of fireworks in his head. It made him feel dizzy. Stumbling, the young Jedi reached toward a wall to steady himself. He knew his thoughts were not clear, but there was little he could do about it. Fragments of memories lay scattered, unattached, like a giant picture puzzle - only most of the pieces were missing.  
  
*Master. Where are you?* he tried to send to Qui-Gon, but wasn't sure if he connected or not. He walked on, wondering what he should do.   
  
  
  
tbc  
  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Well, there's another chapter for you. I hope I didn't disappoint. This story's longer than the others I have written, but don't expect anything on an epic scale. Anyway, I'll post the next part probably in 2 days. Thanks for reading! - Cascadia 


	4. Evanescence

TITLE: PASSAGE OF FEAR  
AUTHOR: Cascadia  
TIME: 7 years pre-TPM, Obi-Wan is 18  
RATING: PG-13  
CATEGORY: Drama/Angst, Non-Slash  
SUMMARY: Someone has infected Obi-Wan with a memory-loss virus. What are their plans for him now?  
ARCHIVE: Please ask first.  
DISCLAIMER: All recognizable characters are the property of Lucasfilm Limited. All the rest belong to me. I receive absolutely no profit from this.  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Anything between * * are personal thoughts. Anything between / / are Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon talking through their bond.  
  
  
  
  
  
~CHAPTER 4 - EVANESCENCE~  
  
  
  
Obi-Wan wandered aimlessly down the sidewalk, avoiding the stares of passers-by. Close to panicking, he desperately tried to recognize... anything. But it only confused him further, trying to identify things and places that he had no memory of. He noticed the merchant signs were growing larger and brighter. The overall atmosphere turned depraved - signs suggesting things Obi-Wan did not want to think about, risqué leers from individuals standing alongside store fronts, windows offering glimpses of strange orgies, and loud percussive-laden rhythms pulsating toward an unattained arduous release.  
  
The young Jedi felt - and looked - very vulnerable in this section of Jata. He tried to keep to himself, afraid of garnering any attention - for fear of what that attention might bring with it. He wondered if he should turn around and go back the way he had come. Deciding that to be the best idea, he slowed his pace, looking warily around. He had already traveled several blocks through Entertainment District. Wondering if he should go back on this side of the street or on the other side, he stopped to think for a few seconds.  
  
He decided to cross the street and return the way he had come from that side. Watching carefully for traffic, he crossed to the other side and started back in the direction that he had came from.   
  
He passed a nightclub with strange, voices moaning. Something about the place - the emotions - told Obi-Wan to run from it. In his attempt to flee as fast as he could from the disturbing feelings he was getting from it, he accidentally stumbled into a young female twi'lek. Giggling, she held on to the young Jedi as he tried to get away from her.  
  
"Hey," she giggled. "Where you going?"  
  
He pulled himself away from her and ran as well as he could through the people crowding the sidewalks. Slowing to a more casual pace, the young Jedi glanced back to make sure he was far away from that place... and that twi'lek.  
  
Coming to the end of the block, Obi-Wan stopped just as a large trandoshan stepped out directly in front of Obi-Wan, its tongue licking along its bottom lip. The young Jedi abruptly stopped, warily eyeing the tall reptilian interloper. Its eye's cast a predatory look that made Obi-Wan unconsciously take a step backwards, shaking his head.   
  
A flash of reflected metal caught the young Jedi's attention a split second after the Force sent a warning of danger. Almost off guard, Obi-Wan twisted sideways to avoid the swing of the sharp instrument intended to bring bloodshed. Lurching after the young Jedi, the trandoshan managed to catch the hem of Obi-Wan's robe with its free hand - throwing the Jedi off balance. With a strong jerk, the reptilian attacker pulled Obi-Wan into his grasp. Struggling to free his hand, Obi-Wan tried to reach for his lightsabre. The trandoshan, much bigger than its human prey, easily pinned Obi-Wan's arms as it dragged him off the sidewalk and into a wynd between two buildings.   
  
Darkness swallowed the two combatants. Desperately trying to free himself from his attacker, Obi-Wan could almost reach his lightsabre. He could have easily gotten it with the Force, but his attention was, rightly so, captive to the trandoshan attempting to pin him to the ground. If he took his attention from that, then he would most definitely be overcome.   
  
Catching the young Jedi's hips beneath it, the reptile sat heavily upon its victim, securing no escape. The sharp knife reappeared in the trandoshan's hand, arcing towards Obi-Wan's throat. The young Jedi grabbed his attacker's wrist with both of his hands, staying the descent.  
  
From his perspective, Obi-Wan felt certain he was going to die. The large trandoshan had him effectively pinned down, and its superior strength would soon wear down Obi-Wan's resistance. He tightened his grip on the attacker's wrist, trying to move the sharp knife it was holding, away from his face - which was where the blade pointed.   
  
"No," Obi-Wan shouted - although the blaring heavy percussive rhythms easily drowned his voice from being heard.  
  
The trandoshan snarled something unintelligible, before redoubling its efforts to bring the blade to Obi-Wan's throat. Assuming a new strategy, the reptilian attacker moved its wrist in the direction that the young Jedi was trying to move it. As the trandoshan brought its arm away from Obi-Wan, the Jedi lost his grip on the reptile's arm. Gasping, Obi-Wan saw the blade flashing towards him. Unable to concentrate enough to use a Force-push - which would have effectively dislodged his attacker - he covered his face and throat with both his arms, trying to protect himself as best he could. Then he felt a quick painful slash across his right forearm, making him cry out.  
  
"I'll give you a reward well worth your trouble," came a disembodied voice.  
  
The trandoshan paused, still intently studying its victim - the blood-smeared knife hovering above the young Jedi's head.  
  
Obi-Wan uncovered his eyes, looking for the source of the voice - which was out of his view. Seeing the trandoshan temporarily distracted, he decided to make his move. Slapping the reptile's arms outward, Obi-Wan reached for his lightsabre - finding that the weapon in question was caught between him and the trandoshan. As he struggled to pull it free, several sets of hands grabbed his arms, restraining them.  
  
Obi-Wan now saw several dark silhouettes gathered around him. Vainly struggling to escape from his constraints, he felt a small prick on his neck. "No," he whispered, to the merriment of his captors who chuckled at his helplessness. /Master!/ he finally sent, sure that it got through this time.  
  
"This was easier than I thought it would be," said one gruff voice.  
  
"We'll pay you well for your help, friend," said another.  
  
Obi-Wan felt himself drift away into a black unconsciousness, unable to fight the sedative coursing through his system.  
  
  
~~~  
  
  
After ordering Obi-Wan's and his own food, Qui-Gon sat, talking with Zaritus. He didn't grow concerned about Obi-Wan's lingering absence until their food arrived. "Maybe I should check on Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon stated.  
  
/Master!/  
  
Qui-Gon nearly stumbled as he stood. The other Jedi looked at him, concern etched on his face.  
  
/Obi-Wan?/   
  
"What is it?" asked Zaritus.  
  
"It's Obi-Wan. Something's wrong," Qui-Gon answered. "He called to me and, now he won't answer."  
  
The two Jedi swept into the 'fresher, finding the young Jedi nowhere in sight. They ran into the corridor, spreading out to search for him. After a few minutes of exploration, they regrouped at the 'fresher to look for any clues as to where the young Jedi may have gone.  
  
Then, Qui-Gon remembered how the Force had warned him to keep an eye on Obi-Wan. "It's my fault," Qui-Gon said.  
  
"What do you mean, Qui-Gon?' asked the dark haired Zaritus.  
  
Qui-Gon leaned heavily against a wall, breathing deeply. "I should have kept a closer watch on Obi-Wan," he said.  
  
"We both should have, Qui-Gon," Zaritus said gently.  
  
"I felt the Force warning me," Qui-Gon added. He looked at Zaritus who was staring at him. "I have to find him," he said, turning to leave.  
  
"I'll do all I can to help, Qui-Gon," Zaritus supported, as the two of them left the restaurant.  
  
By this time it was nearing midnight. Qui-Gon feared that something horrible had happened to Obi-Wan. He couldn't reach him through the Force, so he would try relying on the Force to lead him to his apprentice. This was not easily accomplished - even for a Jedi master. It required total dependence on the Force, and listening completely to its whisperings. He had done it before, but not when so worried about Obi-Wan.  
  
He tried to block out every distraction, so as to hear the Force... and the Force alone. He could not even think about Obi-Wan. That would draw his attention away from the one source that supplied all the answers he would need.   
  
Qui-Gon sank to his knees on the sidewalk. Settling into a deep meditative state, he breathed deeply, to still himself. A few moments later he rose, and crossed the street, Zaritus behind him.  
  
  
~~~  
  
  
Sorru Teanyl watched his comrades securing their captive to a sleep couch. He was not usually so wary, but a Jedi was not the type of person to mess with. Sure, the young man was unconscious, but what did that mean. Sorru had heard too many stories of gallant Jedi knights overcoming great obstacles to defeat their enemies. So, holding one prisoner ultimately did not appeal to him in the least. Besides, he had worked hard all his life to make a respectable business dealings. One wrong move could demolish a lifetime of labor - or revoke his commission with Lanovir Mining Systems, depending on whether he cooperated or not.  
  
A medium built man, Sorru had lived a lifetime travelling from one system to another, making shipment runs and pickups. He knew the Republic systems very well. Since working under Lanovir, he had acquired more business - so much so, that he could have retired from the work himself and left others to do his shipments. But, he was not the type to slow down - no matter how old he was. And his age could not be shaken out of him by any means.  
  
Now he had a dilemma. His Lanovir overseer had ordered him to smuggle a Jedi captive from Jatamansi to Catarma, in the mid rim. He had never been ordered to do such a criminal act before. So why now? He wasn't sure, but he suspected the order came down from Lanovir's recent heiress, Nolamia Cordone. He had met her only once. But from that one meeting he suspected that the new Mining Queen was not at all like her grandfather who had started the business.   
  
Miss Cordone was wise in her business dealings, but something on the outside hinted at something on the inside that was not at all pleasant. She gave off an air of nicety, but there lingered a smugness. Her deep brown hair and matching brown eyes set in a face of dark-tanned innocence was a mask, Sorru was convinced. She inherited the handsome features of her grandfather, but not his kind, good-natured soul.   
  
A weak moan from the unconscious young Jedi broke Sorru from his daydreaming. Sighing, he strolled back to the cockpit to ensure a timely departure from Jatamansi.   
  
The five thugs he found himself dealing with in this escapade did little to settle his worry. After sneaking their prisoner through the spaceport via a large cargo crate, they came aboard snickering and daring one another to take another captive for personal sport. Sorru peered back down the hall watching for them. He did not trust them one bit.   
  
The tallest of the thugs approached Sorru, stopping in front of him. "The kid's all tied up now. You can relax... as long as you keep him unconscious. Jedis aren't to be underestimated. He could kill you with one thought... if he could remember how to," the man laughed. "Here's the drug to give him twice a day. Make sure you don't forget." He handed Sorru the drug vial and a long cylinder - Obi-Wan's lightsabre.   
  
Sorru nodded stiffly. Then, without saying a word, he pulled a small metal case from beneath the pilot's chair and handed it to the thug, who turned and left the cargo ship along with his companions. He didn't know what was in the case, but had been instructed to give it to the men when they brought the Jedi. He guessed it was loaded with credits from the weight and sound of it.  
  
"Everything's clear, sir," said Turey, the copilot.  
  
After placing the drug and the weapon under his seat, Sorru strapped himself in the pilot's chair and checked over all the systems again. Assured everything was in order and that the young Jedi was in tow, he received port clearance and blasted out of Jata's spaceport.  
  
  
~~~  
  
  
Qui-Gon walked through Jata's streets following an unseen lead. He could sense faint traces of his missing padawan. Obi-Wan had wandered into the entertainment sector of Jata - the most dangerous part on the planet. But realizing the direction he was travelling in only distracted him from the Force's lead. So, he quickly put that thought out of his head.   
  
Zaritus followed as close to him as he could. If they appeared to be together, then it would be less likely that someone would detain or trouble them. So, they stayed in close proximity.  
  
Suddenly, Qui-Gon stopped in front of a small diner. He turned and went in. It was a decent-looking place - not at all like the risqué places predominant in Entertainment District. He noticed a small alien wiping down a table.   
  
"Excuse me," Qui-Gon said, as he stopped behind her.  
  
She turned around, craning her neck to peer into the tall Jedi master's face. "Yes," her soft voice replied. "What can I do for you, sir?"  
  
"Did you see a young Jedi in here earlier tonight?" he asked politely.  
  
She looked suspiciously at him, then at the other Jedi standing at the entrance. "Yes, I did. Why?"  
  
Qui-Gon felt his heart leap. Obi-Wan had been here. "We are looking for him. He is my apprentice, and he is very ill."  
  
"I thought he didn't look too good," she said, now more relaxed than when Qui-Gon first approached her. "He looked like something was bothering him. Sorry he's sick." She turned back to the table she was cleaning.  
  
"Did he say where he was going, or anything else that you can remember?" Qui-Gon prodded, hoping.  
  
"No, he just ate and left," the waitress said, her back still turned.  
  
Qui-Gon felt that she was being truthful - the Force reassured him. "Thank you for your time," he nodded.  
  
Retreating back to the street, the two Jedi resumed their search. Qui-Gon moved with a sense of purpose, seemingly taking notice of no one else - his eyes staring off in the distance, in the direction he was heading. Zaritus had difficulty keeping up with the tall, driven Jedi through the lingering, rowdy crowds that would not move out of the way, remaining rudely standing in the middle of the sidewalk, boisterous and tipsy.  
  
The rowdy atmosphere was starting to get to Zaritus, but Qui-Gon was so attuned to the Force that it gave no bother to him. He was living in the Force right now, all his senses trained to hear its mysterious whisperings.   
  
Coming to a standstill, Qui-Gon looked across the street and felt a leading there. The two Jedi crossed to the other side and started back the way they had come. When they came to a wynd between two buildings, Qui-Gon dashed in, sensing a threat to his padawan.   
  
The alley was empty, save for a few discarded papers and disposable cups. Qui-Gon knew that something had happened to Obi-Wan here. There was fear and confusion still lingering through the Force.   
  
"Obi-Wan," the tall Jedi master whispered. He realized that he was only getting distracted. Focusing himself back to the Force, Qui-Gon left the wynd and made a turn toward a speeder garage nearby. Someone must have overcome Obi-Wan and taken him to this garage... to load him in a speeder and leave. They could have gone anywhere... and could be almost anywhere by now.  
  
"So, someone's kidnapped Obi-Wan?" It was Zaritus who spoke.   
  
Qui-Gon only nodded.  
  
By now it was past closing hours... even for the businesses in Entertainment District. Most of the customers were heading home - or looking for trouble. Zaritus pulled Qui-Gon back to the sidewalk in front of the speeder garage.  
  
"Can you continue... or have you lost your focus?" Zaritus asked gently. Only Qui-Gon could so effectively track Obi-Wan. Zaritus did not have the master/padawan bond with him like Qui-Gon did. So, it was up to Qui-Gon to find him through the Force.  
  
"I... " Qui-Gon wasn't sure what the Force was telling him anymore. He was tired from a long day and stressed out from Obi-Wan's illness and subsequent disappearance. The best thing to do would be to go back to their hostel and try to sleep. Even if he tracked to where Obi-Wan was, he would be too exhausted to do anything to help him. "I need rest," he managed to say, while making himself feel selfish for thinking of himself when his padawan could be in peril.  
  
"It's for the best, Qui-Gon," Zaritus encouraged. "You can't help him like this. If someone wanted him dead, he would already be so. You need rest... we both do. We can find him better in the morning."  
  
  
~~~  
  
  
Noli laughed as she lay bundled up in her bed. The Jedi had been procured and was enroute to Catarma. The Jedi was the key... and the doorway to all her dreams of a future secure would be opened when that one Jedi was under her power. Her grandfather would pale in comparison to her accomplishments, she told herself. Closing her eyes she settled into a peaceful sleep... content for the first time in her life.  
  
  
  
tbc  
  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: The plot is more complex than what you've seen so far. And there is no way you'd ever guess what Noli wants Obi-Wan for. But, if you want to guess, go ahead. Right now, we're about one-third through this. - Cascadia 


	5. Discretions

TITLE: PASSAGE OF FEAR   
AUTHOR: Cascadia  
TIME: 7 years pre-TPM, Obi-Wan is 18  
RATING: PG-13  
CATEGORY: Drama/Angst, Non-Slash  
SUMMARY: Someone has infected Obi-Wan with a memory-loss virus. What are their plans for him now?  
ARCHIVE: Please ask first.  
DISCLAIMER: All recognizable characters are the property of Lucasfilm Limited. All the rest belong to me. I receive absolutely no profit from this.  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Anything between * * are personal thoughts. Anything between / / are Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon talking through their bond.  
  
  
  
  
  
~CHAPTER 5 - DISCRETIONS~  
  
  
  
Sorru checked on the Jedi captive a few hours after leaving Jatamansi. Still soundly asleep, the prisoner did not appear at peace. Distress surfaced on his countenance with a troubled brow, confirming what Sorru had been told about a painful virus infecting him. While observing the young Jedi, Sorru noticed a blood-soaked sleeve. Searching for the cause, he found a deep gash to the Jedi's right forearm. Those thugs apparently did nothing to care for the wound. Grimacing, Sorru retrieved a medical kit. Then he cleaned and dressed the wound, all the while leaving the Jedi tied to the sleep couch. The wound would be healed by the time he reached Catarma. Although the drug Sorru was supposed to give him would keep him unconscious - and therefore not a threat - Sorru felt inclined to keep his guest restrained as well. A Jedi should not be underestimated - of that he was sure.  
  
Sorru wondered again why he was doing this. This was not the type of work he wanted to do. Running shipments was his life, not kidnapping Jedis. How did he get trapped into something like this? Abetting the kidnapping of a Jedi undoubtedly carried with it a heavy penalty. And at Sorru's age, he would be dead before he completed a prison term.  
  
Sorru spared another look at the captive. He looked so young. Why would anybody want to harm him? Shaking his head in disgust, Sorru left the cabin and settled in his own bed, trying to catch some sleep - elusive though it was.  
  
  
~~~  
  
  
"No," Mace nearly shouted - his voice echoing in the Council chamber. "We will not disobey the Senate's order to stop the investigation," his chin set with determination.  
  
"But, why do they want us to stop?" Master Nima questioned, with a determination to match Mace's. A contemporary of Qui-Gon Jinn, Nima Dorayin was just as difficult - as the Council would put it - as the tall Jedi master himself. The graying Nima stood in the center of the chamber's circle along with her petite padawan Torani, who was a close friend to Jinn's padawan, Obi-Wan. Together, Nima and Torani had been ordered to investigate the drug tampering that had caused Obi-Wan's illness. So far, all they could come up with was that a data-terminal located within the Senate building was used to hack into the Jedi Temple's records - the healer's ward records and Obi-Wan's record specifically. After that discovery, they were quickly ordered to stop investigating.  
  
"That... does not matter," Mace stated.  
  
"It doesn't matter that they might know something?" Nima questioned. "That they could be covering up a huge conspiracy or even a threat to the Jedi." The aging Jedi master turned in a circle, to glance at every member seated on the Council, before facing Mace again. "I don't believe that all of you would just bury your heads in the sand and pretend that this has not happened." Solemnly she nodded, "I know you don't want to hear this, but I know... something... SOMETHING will happen that you will not be able to ignore. And that will be your downfall... because you WILL ignore it." She bowed curtly, with Torani following her lead. "Good day, masters," she said, leaving the chamber with Torani behind her.  
  
Yoda turned to Mace, who sat beside him. "Right, is she," said the diminutive Jedi master.   
  
Mace locked eyes with him, "there's nothing we can do. Our hands are tied."  
  
Master Eeth Koth spoke up, "We cannot disobey the orders of the Republic. That is whom we serve."  
  
  
~~~  
  
  
Waking after a few hours of sleep, Qui-Gon Jinn could not fall back asleep. He was filled with too much worry. Rolling onto his side, he buried his face in the silky pillow. The night - or rather early morning - sleep had been plagued by nervousness. The Jedi master was unable to rest very well, thoughts of his padawan in unknown danger dominated his thoughts - and dreams. As realization sank in, he lifted his head from the pillow, scanning the finely furnished suite.  
  
Pushing himself off the bed, Qui-Gon stumbled into the 'fresher to prepare for a long day of searching for - and worrying about - the spiky-haired young Jedi that had wormed his way into the master's life. So insistent - and so persistent - the young Jedi had been, until Jinn took him in as his own padawan. Now, with Obi-Wan missing, ill, and in probable danger, Qui-Gon felt totally responsible for the young Jedi's precarious situation - surmising that he himself should have kept a closer eye on his charge.  
  
Attempting to settle himself into the peace of the Force, Qui-Gon pushed aside very thought of his padawan. Difficult as that was, he rather quickly reached the level of calm that he was famous for. The Force swirled in waves about the room - bringing with it a new, fresh sense of hope and guidance that was absent last night.  
  
The first place the two Jedi went was the Jata spaceport. Qui-Gon felt led to go there. He felt sure this was where his padawan's kidnappers took him. They wandered about through the hangers for several hours before Qui-Gon stopped walking. Turning to Zaritus, he knew he was at a dead end.   
  
"Obi-Wan was here... somewhere," his shoulders slumped. "He was here, but he's gone now," Qui-Gon said.  
  
Force-tracking his padawan across a city - even a planet - was one thing. But tracking him across the galaxy was entirely different. It was most certainly a hopeless situation. Qui-Gon was well aware of that - perhaps too aware.  
  
"Come, Qui-Gon," Zaritus said kindly. "Let's return to the hostel and inform the Council of the situation."  
  
Qui-Gon could only nod.  
  
  
~~~  
  
  
On the shuttle ride to Coruscant, Qui-Gon tried to not think of his padawan. It only served to make him upset at himself for not watching the young man closer. Besides that, going back to Coruscant was not his idea. Ordered to return to the Jedi Temple, Qui-Gon reluctantly left the Quarter Moon, left Jata, and left Garil Dubelt to do his research. The researcher promised the worried Jedi master that he would not give up searching for a cure to the virus. Qui-Gon took the man at his word and left immediately with Knight Zaritus for home.  
  
Now, as his shuttle settled deftly into the Temple hanger, the Jedi master turned his eyes upon the Force, seeking the fathomless peace glowing there, patiently waiting for his renewed attention.   
  
Leaving the hanger behind, Qui-Gon sought to find out if anything new had been uncovered about the drug tampering. Immediately, he spotted Mace walking towards him at the end of a long corridor. Mace abruptly stopped, then turned around to go back the way he had come.   
  
"Mace," Qui-Gon called out, quickening his pace.  
  
Mace stopped in his tracks, his head bowed, his back still toward Qui-Gon.  
  
"Mace?" Qui-Gon queried as he walked around to the front of the Councilor. He knew something was amiss by the man's actions - something that he did not want to tell Qui-Gon.  
  
Mace steadily met the taller man's gaze, but there was something in his eyes that was not at all even. Expressionless was the rest of his countenance.  
  
"Mace," Qui-Gon said again, not sure that he wanted to discover the reason for the man's behavior. "Mace, what's going on? Has anything been uncovered?"  
  
The feelings that rested behind Mace's eyes gave Qui-Gon a sinking feeling. "Qui-Gon, we need to talk," Mace replied as he started forward slowly, gesturing for Qui-Gon to walk with him.  
  
"What is it, Mace? Tell me," the tall Jedi demanded.  
  
"It's... the situation with the drug tampering," Mace spared a sympathetic glance at the man beside him. "The Senate has ordered the investigation closed."  
  
"What?" Qui-Gon stopped quickly, turning to fully face Mace. "What do you mean?"  
  
Mace nervously paused while a couple of padawan's passed them. "The Senate has the authority to keep us out of their business. We serve the Republic, Qui-Gon. We're their peacekeepers, not their inquisition."  
  
Qui-Gon could not believe what he was hearing. "But Mace, why do they want it closed? Just what is going on?"  
  
"I don't know," Mace answered, "but I can't stick our nose into something we've been ordered to leave alone. Qui-Gon, look at it from my standpoint. If we disobey this order, then why should the Republic keep us? If we won't obey them, then we'll destroy ourselves." He held up his hand to stop Qui-Gon from interrupting him. "When they see us as a threat rather than an asset, then that day will be our last. The Jedi Order cannot live in discord with the Republic. It's as simple as that. And there's nothing else I can do."  
  
Slowly turning, Qui-Gon and Mace continued silently down the corridor. Both were deep in thought - neither at peace.   
  
"What reason did they have to interfere with the investigation? What happened to make them do that?" Qui-Gon asked, stopping before the lift doors.  
  
"Master Nima discovered that a data-terminal located in the Senate building was used to tap into the Temple records. After inquiring further about access to the terminal, we were quickly informed to back off and leave it alone. The Senate said that this is an internal matter and is none of our business. Qui-Gon," Mace emphasized, "don't do anything foolish. I know you want to find Obi-Wan. We all do. But we can't overstep our bounds. This is not a simple Jedi problem. It's apparently bigger than we knew." The lift doors opened, spilling out its passengers. "I have a meeting now, Qui-Gon. I must go," Mace said as he stepped into the lift.  
  
Qui-Gon only nodded. The lift doors closed, leaving him alone in the corridor.  
  
  
~~~  
  
  
Garil Dubelt was no slacker when it came to solving a problem. Since Obi-Wan left the Nuplass Medical Research Center, Dubelt had been consumed with finding a solution. Immediately coming to mind when he first scanned the tests of Obi-Wan was a virus on Nefwar about five years ago. It attacked the brain's primary functions - causing temporary memory loss. The lapses grew in intensity with each attack, leaving the victim disoriented, confused - and in a few cases... culminated with death. But those that died were the feeble. Although the virus did not usually kill, it caused a great deal of pain by inflicting headaches on its unsuspecting victims - starting slowly, then increasing to a quick, decisive wipe of the victims' past. Fortunately, it was not proven to be permanent. Nearly all of its surviving victims regained at least a partial restoration of memories.   
  
But this that Obi-Wan had been infected with was slightly different. It appeared to be an engineered strain of Stakeptovitus - only this new strain appeared to have a permanent effect, lost memories could not be recovered. The original virus was naturally occurring, as far as they knew. But this new strain was definitely created for a purpose. Which brought up the question of why. That question, Dubelt could not answer.  
  
Apparently when the new strain of Stakeptovitus encountered the high levels of the painkiller Tordoxaine in Obi-Wan's system, the virus formed compounds with the painkiller creating a mutation. Some of the Tordoxaine was left unaffected - a high enough amount as to cause Obi-Wan's addiction. But what combined with the virus became a more potent, possibly more dangerous, strain.  
The original Stakeptovitus was not contagious, but was spread through drinking water. This strain appeared to be similar. There was no evidence that it was contagious, and the way Obi-Wan was infected was through ingestion.  
  
Dubelt decided a more in-depth study of the original virus was in order. He would study the similarities of both strains to determine what the differences were. But unfortunately, it looked like there was no cure.  
  
  
~~~  
  
  
Sorru Teanyl watched Obi-Wan from the cabin's doorway. The young Jedi was nearing consciousness - just as Sorru had suspected. Two days' journey from Jatamansi the old space pilot decided that he would do his own investigation before delivering his prisoner to Catarma. There had to be a reason that someone wanted a Jedi, and had gone to so much trouble to get this one. He had not decided what exactly he was going to do, but he was not going to blindly follow an order that he did not feel good about.  
  
As he approached the sleep couch, the Jedi's eyes fluttered open, then closed again. Sorru pulled a chair to the side of the couch and sat, intently studying the prisoner. Opening his eyes again, the young Jedi gazed groggily at the ceiling. After about a minute, he turned his head to the side towards Sorru.   
  
Obi-Wan tried focusing his eyes, but everything remained fuzzy and dark. He didn't know where he was or how he got there. Slowly, an image started to come into focus. It was a man looking at him. But who was this man?   
  
"Who..." Obi-Wan whispered, his brow furrowing.  
  
Sorru leaned closer to the Jedi, watching him closely.   
  
"Who are... you?" Obi-Wan tried again.  
  
"Just a man," Sorru cryptically answered.  
  
Frowning deeper, Obi-Wan struggled to see his wrists, which he discovered were tightly restrained to the headboard of the sleep couch he was lying upon.  
  
Obi-Wan turned his eyes back to the man in the chair, wariness now apparent in his blue eyes. The man shifted uncomfortably, never taking his eyes from the young Jedi.  
  
"What... do you want?" Obi-Wan asked, his voice still not strong enough to speak more than a whisper.  
  
Shrugging, the man just sat there watching him. It made Obi-Wan feel uncomfortable. Here he was being held prisoner by someone he didn't recognize, and the man would not even give him a clue as to why.  
  
Obi-Wan tried to remember how he came to be in this predicament, but couldn't remember. As a matter of fact, he couldn't remember much of anything.   
  
Looking back to the man in the chair, Obi-Wan tried another question. "Why am I here?"  
  
"You can't remember?" the man said. Sorru was testing the young Jedi, just to see how far along his memory loss was. From the look of perplexity on the prisoner's face, he must be pretty far along. Sorru wondered if he even remembered he was a Jedi.   
  
Obi-Wan tried to think. There were little bits of memories, but none of it made sense. Why couldn't he remember? And who was this man... and why did he have Obi-Wan restrained like this? A myriad of questions pranced through his mind. The more he wondered, the more afraid he felt.   
  
Sorru wondered why he had been picked for this delivery. Was he picked at random, or chosen specifically? And why was he expected to cooperate with this crime? These thoughts were nothing but unsettling. But he felt like he had no choice. His scheduled stop at Catarma was on his way to his next drop-off, and he would undoubtedly be threatened - or worse - if the young Jedi was not delivered.  
  
Obi-Wan quietly watched the man, wondering what the man had in mind to do with him.  
  
Brusquely, the man stood and moved to a cabinet near the door. Pulling something from a drawer, he kept his back turned toward Obi-Wan. After a moment, he came to the edge of the sleep couch where Obi-Wan lay, with something in his hand.  
  
Quickly, Sorru released the injection into the young Jedi's neck. Obi-Wan struggled to escape from the bonds that held his wrists and ankles. In a matter of seconds Obi-Wan's eyelids dropped, too heavy to resist the call of unconsciousness.  
  
  
~~~  
  
  
The bright sun sank ever so slowly behind the moon Prinia, pushing the planet to a near total blackness. In just three hours all would be dark - completely dark - from the solar eclipse. It was signaling the prophecy of the Tona-Drandel, and Hapah Dut was worthy enough to live to see it. Eyes sparkling with awe that this time was finally coming to pass, Hapah stood mesmerized by the sign in the sky. He must make sure that they were prepared.  
  
  
  
tbc  
  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I hope I didn't confuse you with that one. *evil grin* Don't worry, it will all make sense in time. - Cascadia 


	6. Awakening

TITLE: PASSAGE OF FEAR  
AUTHOR: Cascadia  
TIME: 7 years pre-TPM, Obi-Wan is 18  
RATING: PG-13  
CATEGORY: Drama/Angst, Non-Slash  
SUMMARY: Someone has infected Obi-Wan with a memory-loss virus. What are their plans for him now?  
ARCHIVE: Please ask first.  
DISCLAIMER: All recognizable characters are the property of Lucasfilm Limited. All the rest belong to me. I receive absolutely no profit from this.  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Anything between * * are personal thoughts. Anything between / / are Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon talking through their bond.  
  
  
  
  
  
~CHAPTER 6 - AWAKENING~  
  
  
  
The balcony offered a generous view of the Coruscant skyline. Overwhelming - and beautiful to those with a taste for monstrosity - was the vast spectacle. Jedi Master Nima Dorayin enjoyed the openness afforded by a balcony near the top of the residential section of the Jedi Temple. It offered an escape from the stress often present in a Jedi's life.  
  
Qui-Gon sat with Nima and her padawan Torani, staring out at the immense cityscape. Both masters had faced the ire of the Council on more than one occasion, but were not too timorous to do it again. Qui-Gon had known Nima since their days together as padawans, and knew her to be completely honest in her thoughts and feelings - sometimes to the point of angering the Council. But always the prudent one, she never stated anything without careful consideration of consequences.  
  
Nima was average in stature, and no less strong. Her appearance gave way to the determination inside - strong facial features and black hair, slight graying at the roots. Nima was regarded by some as more than capable of taking on three Jedi masters - although she herself was more modest in her own assessment.  
  
Torani, her padawan, was the same age as Obi-Wan. Her petite, slender frame betrayed a sense of delicate fragility. Youthful in her appearance, she was often mistaken for being years younger than her eighteen years. She pushed her twisted, dark ash-blonde braids behind her shoulders as a cool night wind swept across the balcony.  
  
"Do you know who's data-terminal was used to break into the Temple's records?" Qui-Gon asked.  
  
"I'm quite sure it is in the Prime Senate Spire... one of the lower levels. Probably a bureaucratic office," Nima answered. She peered out at the sunset - crimson bleeding across the bright sky.   
  
"Then someone working for the Senate, most likely," Qui-Gon surmised.  
  
"Yes, I would say that is the case," Nima faced him. "But, I'm not so sure that the Senate itself is even aware of this. Although we received a warning from the Senate, it was specifically the Senate Committee on New World Discovery and Exploration that promptly reprimanded us."  
  
"What does that mean?" Qui-Gon wondered. "What does drug tampering have to do with exploration?"  
  
"That's what we'd like to know," replied Torani, evenly.  
  
"Qui-Gon," Nima continued. "I think there is something larger going on with the Senate - or at least someone in the Senate. I think Obi-Wan is just the tip of the asteroid. We need to find out specifically who is covering up what."  
  
"But how can we?" Qui-Gon met her eyes. "The Council won't allow it."  
  
Nima slowly smiled. "Qui-Gon, my friend, that's why we're not on the Council," she laughed. Defying the Council was nothing new to either one of them. The Force was their guide, not the Republic. And although the Jedi Council was trapped by decisions of the Republic, that would stop neither master from following the Force's lead.  
  
Smiling, Qui-Gon leaned back in the cushioned chair, trying to relax. It was hard to with Obi-Wan missing. He reached out to touch the Force that he knew was always there. Soaking in its comforting waves, the tall Jedi master closed his eyes, focusing on his source of strength.  
  
Qui-Gon wondered what all of this meant. If someone in the Senate was doing something illegal, then how was Obi-Wan involved? What was he needed for?   
  
He knew that Obi-Wan was out there - across the galaxy - somewhere. And although he didn't know exactly where, he was sure that the young Jedi was alive. A master/padawan bond was considered mysterious by some. But, it was by this alone that he felt assured that his apprentice still lived.   
  
"I have to find him," Qui-Gon said quietly, more to himself than anyone else.  
  
"We'll do all we can to help you, Qui-Gon," Nima assured. She glanced at Torani, who was gazing at the tile floor of the balcony. "Torani and I both are willing to do all we can to find Obi-Wan. We will find him. We will."  
  
  
~~~  
  
  
Approaching Catarma was never a fun ride. It was surrounded by a multitude of moons, so the strength of the moons' gravitational pull greatly interfered with entering the planet's gravity well. The blue/green planet was a feast of deep, pure oceans and lush, tropical forests. And, the moon dance - as it was called - at night was in itself well worth the trouble of navigating the moon maze to reach the planet's surface. The complex patterns that the moons formed seemed to change every night, filling the sky with heavenly spheres of various sizes.  
  
Sorru Teanyl piloted the cargo shuttle to the surface, landing on the designated pad located at the coordinates cryptically sent to him just prior to entering the system. The encryption codes were normally used by Lanovir's pilots to send information about what they were transporting - being coded so that space pirates could not intercept a delivery manifest of their cargo. This prevented most attacks by pirates - or others contemplating stealing their precious goods. But, normally those goods did not include a person - or in this case a Jedi.   
  
Sorru powered down the engines, glancing out the front viewport at the radiant turquoise ocean breathing in the distance, just beyond the flat, ivory sands ahead. To the left he spied a wilderness of white dunes sculpted by the salty breezes. And to the right spread a large manor house, shining alabaster from the brilliant sunlight. It had an air of fantasy, without losing the very real fact that it was there - despite how ideal it appeared.  
  
"Stay here," Sorru told his copilot, Turey, before leaving the confines of his cargo ship. Disembarking, he noticed a woman walking towards him from the manor house - her brown hair twisting sporadically with the strong coastal winds. Standing his distance, Sorru recognized the woman as none other than Nolamia Cordone. If her attractive appearance did not give her away, her purposeful stride would.  
  
"Sorru Teanyl," she greeted warmly, extending her hand.   
  
"Greetings, Miss Cordone," Sorru returned the same warmness, taking her hand in his and placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles.  
  
"Well," she laughed, "you certainly are the gentleman, aren't you. Come," she turned away from the cargo ship, taking his arm. She led him up the steps to the porch of the house.  
  
"Sit," Noli gestured toward a wicker lounge chair. "We must discuss our little... secret."  
  
Sorru sat where she indicated, not at all sure what she had in mind - other than the Jedi. But what was there to discuss about it?  
  
After seating herself, Noli faced her elder guest. She had met Sorru once before and never forgotten it. To her, he was most respectable and honorable - a noble spirit of faithfulness to her recently departed grandfather. She felt that his loyalty to the late Bugent Cordone would keep him in line long enough to deliver the Jedi. What she was not sure of was the man's willingness to keep his mouth shut about it afterwards.  
  
"Mr. Teanyl," she began gently. "I know how fond you were of my grandfather. And I'm so happy that you have stayed on since his passing. It means so much to me to keep my most loyal and best pilots. And you, sir, are the best."  
  
"Thank you," Sorru replied politely.  
  
"My good man, wherever did you learn your manners? It's most welcome," Noli said.  
  
"I owe it all to my mother," Sorru chuckled.  
  
Noli laughed. "Oh, you are wonderful. Now, about our precious cargo." She suddenly turned serious. "You do know what he is, do you not?"  
  
Sorru swallowed with difficulty. "Yes, Miss Cordone. I believe I do."  
  
"Then... you know how important it is that no one knows?" her eyes searching his.  
  
"Yes, but..." he paused, not sure whether to continue.  
  
"But, what?" she prompted, leaning closer.  
  
He looked back towards his cargo ship resting on the landing pad. "Why do you want him?"  
  
Noli smiled slyly. "That, my dear, is not your concern. And... your life is better left not knowing. And besides, you're much too old to think about a new line of work."  
  
"I see," he replied, understanding her meaning. "Then you won't require my services in this... secret project anymore?" Sorru met her eyes, unblinking.  
  
Laughing, Noli took his hand in hers. "No. Your job is through here," she said, understanding his insinuation that he could be trusted by her. "But what about Turey? Can I trust him?"  
  
"I think Turey doesn't care what we do, as long as he gets paid on time," Sorru added, smiling slightly.  
  
"Ah, your payment." She stood and retrieved a small metallic case from behind her wicker chair. "This," she held out the case to him, "is for all your trouble. And never say grandfather's little girl was never generous," she smiled.  
  
Taking the proffered case, Sorru hefted its weight in one hand. "Thank you, Miss Cordone," he bowed gracefully. "Tell me, where do you want... the merchandise?"  
  
"I'll show you," Noli turned to enter the house.  
  
  
~~~  
  
  
Pacing outside Senator Thar Rakil's office, Qui-Gon wrapped himself in the Force, trying to set aside all worry about his padawan. He had slept much better last night, but anytime he took his eyes off of the Force, then thoughts of Obi-wan in danger threatened to distract him. Now he was utterly throwing himself to the Force.  
  
"Master Jinn," came a smooth voice from the Senator's doorway, now cracked open.  
  
Qui-Gon spun around, following the rotund Warisellan into the office. The thick, scaly blue creature had deep red eyes, and a short snout that could not hide the sharp incisors. "Please sit," the creature said.   
  
Taking a wide chair beside the desk, Qui-Gon finally relaxed.   
  
"Now, what was it you wished to speak with me about, Master Jinn?" asked the blue creature.  
  
"Senator Rakil?" Qui-Gon inquired.  
  
Nodding, the creature replied, "Yes, I am Rakil, Senator from Warisell." Warisell was a planet near the outer rim - known for its strip-mining. However, the planet's government had nearly extracted everything useful from its surface, leaving it a near wasteland.  
  
"And you are the chairman of the Senate Committee on New World Discovery and Exploration?" Qui-Gon asked more as a statement. He was sure Rakil was the chairman, but just wanted to bring the committee up for discussion.  
  
Resting his arms on the desk before him, Rakil smiled a toothy grin, "Yes, Master Jinn. I am."  
  
"Thank you for taking time from your busy schedule to talk to me, Senator. I need to ask you about a matter concerning-"  
  
"The data-terminal that was used to breach your Temple records, no doubt," Rakil interrupted.  
  
Sighing, Qui-Gon answered. "Yes."  
  
"Master Jinn. I can not hand out classified information.... Even to a Jedi." Rakil stressed the word 'Jedi', as if he were sickened just to speak the word.   
  
"Senator, I am not here on official business. The Jedi that disappeared was my apprentice, and I would like to find him... as soon as possible," Qui-Gon explained.  
  
"The security breach is under investigation, but it is no longer your concern. Please keep your nose out of our business, Master Jinn." The senator turned his attention to the stack of data-readers on his desk. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have much work to do. All of my aides have suddenly decided to be sick at the same time. Good day, Master Jinn."  
  
Fighting to remain calm due to the rude treatment by the senator, Qui-Gon stood and promptly walked out.   
  
  
~~~  
  
  
"Let me guess," Nima said, "the polite senator told you nothing."  
  
"He told me nothing but to keep my nose out of his business," Qui-Gon added.  
  
Nodding, Nima placed her mug on the kitchen table of her quarters. "There must be someone we can talk to who will tell us something," she said absently. "Perhaps one of the other senators on the committee. I don't believe the Chancellor or anyone else would really know what was going on. Do you, Qui-Gon?"  
  
"Perhaps not." He sipped from his mug of djuran tea. "Nor would they be able to help. The Senate is so slow... and so big. I doubt any senator knows everything that's going on. It might be limited to this committee."  
  
A soft chime interrupted their musings. Nima left the kitchen to answer. A moment later Mace Windu rushed through the kitchen door.  
  
"Qui-Gon," he started, his voice upset. "I told you to leave this alone. Senator Rakil has ordered a formal reprimand of you, and I can not stand in his way. This is not the way to handle this, Qui-Gon," he cautioned.  
  
Now standing, the tall Jedi master replied calmly, "How is the way to handle this, Mace. You told me there was nothing the Council could do. What am I supposed to do? Desert Obi-Wan? Leave him, with who knows what who knows who has planned to do with him?" He came closer to Mace, "I can't do that, Mace. There's no way I'd ever do anything like that."  
  
Mace just stared at Qui-Gon, unable to think of an answer. He turned halfway, looking to the floor. "I don't know," he whispered. "I don't know, Qui-Gon." Meeting the taller man's eyes now, he added, "just be more discrete next time." He opened his mouth to say more, but opted to say nothing else. Shaking his head, he turned and left Nima's quarters.  
  
  
~~~  
  
  
The gold cushioned chair Rousella reclined in was her favorite seat on the spacious porch. From here she could watch the intense waves rolling in, or see the dozens of moons dance in the midnight sky above Catarma. She often sat alone on the porch, thinking. As the daylight slipped beyond the far horizon, and the bright blue waters turned to deep blue ebbing tides, Rousella knew her life was about to change. There was something - indistinguishable - that now was present here... that had not been here before. She pulled her short blonde hair off her neck where perspiration had collected from the humid ocean air. Breathing deeply, slowly, she decided that some things were better left not knowing. The future was not always pleasant - not for those who attempt to direct their own destiny.  
  
"Rousella," came the becharmed voice that she had grown to know so well.   
  
She remained facing the ocean, giving no recognition to the voice that called to her.  
  
"Rousella, I'm talking to you, dear," said Noli, slightly firm. The elder woman sat in the wicker chair beside her.  
  
Finally turning to face Noli, Rousella acknowledged her. "Yes, Noli, I know."  
  
Leaning back in her seat, Noli gazed at the sky, noting the moons in a new pattern. "They're different tonight," she said, indicating the lunar positions.  
  
"Yes," Rousella answered, only half listening. "What about..." she stopped, not sure why. "What about the Jedi, Noli?" she forced her words out.  
  
The elder woman turned fully facing Rousella. "What about him?"  
  
Self-conscious under the scrutiny, Rousella refused to look at Noli. "What do you... think about him?"  
  
"What am I supposed to think, dear?" Noli was now playing, enjoying seeing young Rousella uncomfortable. The younger woman rarely gave Noli this much opportunity.  
  
"I don't know," Rousella answered after a brief hesitation.  
  
Noli looked back to the sky. "I have to make sure he trusts me. I think the sickness is in its last stages. But we won't use his real name. He should remember a few things... just the early things he learned - perhaps his first lessons in the Force. I'll make him believe that he is my student. And that he's had a terrible accident, and that's why he can't remember much."  
  
"I thought you decided to tell him you were his mother," Rousella frowned.  
  
"Things change, dear. It will be better if he thinks I'm his teacher, then he will accept my instruction better."  
  
"And when do you think he will be ready?" Rousella asked.  
  
"He'll be ready in time," Noli smiled. "All he has to know how to do is to enter a creature's mind and calm it. That shouldn't be too difficult to teach in such short a time. I'll wake him tomorrow."  
  
  
~~~  
  
  
A ray of morning sunlight crept shyly through the soft white window curtains, splaying gently across the wide bed, bringing dawn to the sleeping figure beneath the crisp cream blankets. He sighed softly, still asleep - but near waking. After a moment, his eyes fluttered open. He blinked them a few times, trying to work out the haze in his vision.  
  
"Cailean," said an excited female voice to the side of the bed. "You're awake. I was so afraid you never would. You gave us such a scare."  
  
Obi-Wan turned his head toward the voice, and saw a woman watching him, her eyes wide with joy. He wondered who it was. Searching his thoughts, he found mostly vague confusion. He couldn't remember how he got here, where here was, or even who he was. Frowning, he looked back to the woman sitting beside his bed.  
  
"Cailean," she said cautiously. "Don't you recognize me?" her voice emitting worry.   
  
Obi-Wan tried to remember her, but could not. As far as he knew, he'd never seen her before in his entire life. He shook his head slowly, watching the sorrow that came over the woman's face.  
  
She sighed. "You had a terrible accident, and they said," she paused, holding back a sob, "they said that you may not remember anything." A single tear slid down her cheek.  
  
"Who are you?" Obi-Wan quietly asked, confused by the whole situation.  
  
"I'm your teacher, Cailean. You've been living here, learning from me since you were very young. I wish you could remember," she whispered.  
  
Obi-Wan wished he could remember too. But all he could find was a mass of confused thoughts and emotions, floating about in his mind.  
  
Just then another woman came into the room. She was younger. "Cailean's awake," she shouted triumphantly. "Noli, do you want me to set an extra place at the breakfast table?" she asked the elder woman.  
  
"No, Cailean will eat in bed," she smiled at him. "He's probably too weak to go downstairs. He needs to get his strength back. Then we can talk."  
  
  
~~~  
  
  
"Rousella," Noli began, "I want you to make sure Crand finishes the landscaping. You know how lazy he is. And, another thing. Check on the placement of the planets in the Toran System. I want to make sure that we stay on schedule."  
  
"I will, Noli. But, where are you going?" the younger woman frowned. "I thought you were going to work with the... Cailean, today?" She decided not to say 'Jedi', in case he might overhear.  
  
"I will when we get back," Noli answered, heading towards the stairs that lead to the Jedi's room.  
  
"We?" Rousella asked, suspiciously.  
  
Noli stopped at the foot of the stairs, turning to Rousella. "Yes. He needs new clothes. I'm taking him to town to buy new ones," Noli informed.  
  
"But I thought that he was going to wear the clothes left by Batome. Isn't that what you had decided?" Rousella stared at Noli, wondering why she was making all these changes. First she was going to tell the Jedi that she was his mother, then changed it to being his teacher. Now she was getting him new clothes.   
  
"Batome's clothes are too big on him, and besides, he needs something white. I forgot about that," Noli calmly explained.  
  
"What difference does that make? They'll be fine. They're not that big, Noli," Rousella argued.  
  
The elder woman looked up to the top of the stairs. "I think he will feel more like he belongs if we act like he does. And he has to have something white... for the prophecy."  
  
Rousella nodded slowly. "What if someone recognizes him?" she asked.  
  
"I don't think anyone will," Noli explained. "This is such a sparsely populated planet. And Runa is a not a tourist town. We'll be safe," she nodded.  
  
  
~~~  
  
  
The tray before him was filled with a delicious assortment of fruits, breads, and tangy spreads. They were delicious, but he wasn't sure if he used to like them or not. It was like he was learning everything over again. Just as he was finishing up, Noli came into his room.   
  
"How are you feeling, Cailean?" she asked, taking a seat to the side of his bed where he sat eating.  
  
He glanced up at her before returning his gaze back to the tray. He felt so strange. Here he was in this house, with this woman - and neither of them he remembered, but apparently he should - if not for the accident he had. There were so many questions - so many things he wanted to ask.   
  
At the same time, he felt afraid. Not knowing anything about himself or his life was frightening. What if there was something about himself that he would not like, that would be terrifying to find out?   
  
"Cailean?" Noli asked, concerned at his quiet, withdrawn demeanor.  
  
Stealing a quick glance at her, Obi-Wan replied, "I'm fine... I think."  
  
"I know. It must feel so strange not... remembering anything," she consoled.  
  
"Yes," Obi-Wan whispered, "it does feel strange." His stared at the tray of food. "Noli," he looked back up at her, "do you think I'll ever remember anything?" He hoped so much that he could.  
  
Blinking her eyelids, Noli said, "I don't know, Cailean. But you can't let that stop you from living in the now." She took his hand, squeezing it. "You need to get on with your life. You're so young. You have a lifetime to live."  
  
"What kind of... accident was I in?" Obi-Wan asked, hesitantly.  
  
Sighing deeply, Noli said, "it was a speeder accident. There was something wrong with the engine... a leak, I think they said. That caused an explosion, and you were thrown from it. You were lucky you weren't killed."  
  
"How long ago was that?" Obi-Wan asked, trying to piece together what happened - since he had no memory of any of it.  
  
"It was about... a month ago," Noli said, confidently. "Cailean, would you like to go to town? We need to get you new clothes. You see, when you were in your speeder accident, you were taking a vacation. So, you had most of your clothes with you - and they were burnt up in the explosion. The only ones you have left don't fit you very well," she glanced at the clothes he had on.   
  
Obi-Wan followed her gaze to his clothes. The sleeves were folded up so as to not be in the way. Considering what she said, he answered quietly, "sure. If you want," It made sense, so he didn't question it.   
  
"Good," Noli stood, heading towards the door. "I'll get the speeder ready. Come down when you're ready." Seeing the young Jedi nod, she left the room - closing the door behind her.  
  
  
~~~  
  
  
"You said I'm your student," Obi-Wan began. "What is it that you're teaching me?"   
  
Periodically glancing at the young Jedi seated beside her in her speeder, Noli explained as she drove, "I've been teaching you about the Force. It's a... gift - if you want to call it that - that only some people can sense. Do you remember anything about it?"  
  
Obi-Wan searched his thoughts, trying to find any memory of it. "I... I'm not sure. Maybe," he added, still trying to remember.  
  
"Well, you might still remember more about it than you think. You've probably forgotten more recent things, while still remembering the early things you learned... such as walking, talking, even your earliest lessons are probably there. But you'll recall them better once we resume your training."  
  
"Can you... sense the Force, too," he asked, genuinely.  
  
Laughing, Noli shook her head. "No. I was not blessed with that."  
  
"Then how can you teach me?" Obi-Wan frowned, attempting to understand.  
  
"I have learned a great deal about it. And," she turned serious, "there is a reason you are here. A calling you have to fulfill. It is my responsibility to prepare you for that." She intended to teach him very low level Force exercises, but no more than would possibly endanger her ultimate plan from working.  
  
Considering what the woman was telling him, Obi-Wan suddenly felt overwhelmed. Was there something important that he alone was to do? He questioned if it could be true. However, he kept these thoughts to himself.  
  
  
~~~  
  
  
Murmuring softly in the horizon, the brilliant turquoise ocean expanse seemed to glow from beneath - as if a huge light lay at the ocean floor, illuminating the rising and falling waters overhead. The gentle rush of the sea breezes fell tenderly, lightly upon bright white sands. Warm under the baking sunrays, the grains of fine sand were a relaxing place to teach - or learn. If the ideal view did not distract a wandering mind, then the sheer comfort of warm and sensuous sand beneath would.  
  
"You're not paying attention," Noli said, annoyed at her distracted student. Together they sat on the beach - Obi-Wan facing the sea, Noli facing him.   
  
Obi-Wan glanced at her momentarily before turning his attention back to the billowing waves. The place was so beautiful. He couldn't seem to keep his attention on Noli's instruction.   
  
"Did you hear me, Cailean?" the woman asked, her patience wearing thin. She watched him as he turned back to face her, his eyes bright - and very blue - the color of the crystal turquoise sea. Quickly she put that thought out of her mind. "I'm never bringing you out here again. This is the only time, Cailean." For four weeks she had been teaching him, but never with his attention divided like this. Sighing in frustration, she continued. "I want you to practice entering that trenis crab's mind again later. Alright?" she asked.  
  
"Yes, Noli," he replied, nodding.  
  
"Now," she continued, "if you ever hear any voices telling you things through the Force, DON'T listen to them. They are to be ignored. This is the dark side, trying to stray you from the correct path. They will tell you all manner of things. But they are not to be trusted. Do you hear me?"  
  
"Yes, Noli." Obi-Wan glanced back to the surf. Then he stood, his eyes glued to the ocean.  
  
"What are you doing?" Noli asked, confused.   
  
Without answering, Obi-Wan started walking toward the edge of the water.   
  
"Cailean," the woman shouted. Then, she too, stood.  
  
"I don't remember ever being in the ocean," the young Jedi called back over his shoulder, stepping into the waves beating against the beach. Entering the flooding tide, Obi-Wan increased his speed, reaching a distance where huge waves pelted him, nearly sweeping his feet out from beneath him.  
  
Noli watched in disbelief, unable to move, her mouth wide open. "No, Cailean," she shouted above the sounds of the surf. "Not with all your clothes on. You'll get them wet."  
  
Noli's words too late spoken, Obi-Wan fell from the crash of one particularly immense wave, going completely under in its grasp. Noli wondered whether she should go after him or not. Taking a couple of tentative steps toward the ocean, she stopped when Obi-Wan's head emerged. Coughing, he stood and trudged from the moving waters, making his way back to the beach.  
  
Laughing, he glanced down at his drenched clothes - apparently happy with himself. Noli's face only darkened. "Why did you do that," she barked, but was unable to keep a serious face with Obi-Wan's openly innocent amusement. He is so childlike, Noli thought, wondering if this was a result of his memory loss, or if he were naturally this way.  
  
Plopping down beside her, Obi-Wan sat facing her as he had before his little rebellion started - as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Only now, his clothes, hair, and everything were soaking wet. He flashed her a sheepish smile.   
  
Noli could not help but smile in return. She watched the water droplets dripping from his hair, past his bright turquoise eyes, trailing down his smooth, handsome face, falling softly upon the ivory sands. He held her gaze, his smile disappearing.  
  
Noli suddenly found herself drawn to him. Before she realized what she was doing, her lips pressed gently against his - losing herself completely in a moment of silent passion. When she came to her senses, she quickly opened her eyes, aware that she had pushed Obi-Wan back on the sand. His eyes were wide and staring into hers, layered with uncertainty - and fear.   
  
Pushing herself off of him, Noli sat with her back to him. She silently admonished herself for letting her emotions take over. She did not even realize that she had feelings like that for Obi-Wan. It was not feelings of love, anyway. It was only the view, the fire of the moment... lust - but it was not love. The Jedi meant nothing to her. Once she was through using him, he would be thrown away. Yet it came as a shock, leaving her embarrassed. How could she have let him get to her like this? Her work was more important. She could not let anything interfere with her goal. And this Jedi was part of it. She would have to keep herself in check from now on.  
  
Obi-Wan did not understand what was happening. Confused, he wondered if there had been something between them before his memory loss. Sitting up, his gaze fell down to the sand. He wondered if his surprised, almost repulsed, reaction to her advances was appropriate for their relationship before. He thought she was a very beautiful woman, but he just did not feel that way about her. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, trying to make right what he feared he had made wrong.   
  
"No," Noli said. "I'M sorry. It was wrong of me, and I should not have taken you by surprise. I did not know what I was doing." She turned around towards him, his gaze fixed on the sand in front of him. "Please forgive me."  
  
Glancing up at her, Obi-Wan nodded, "I hold nothing against you."  
  
Seeing his sincerity, Noli said, "I am your teacher, and that is how it will stay. Alright?"  
  
"Yes," Obi-Wan smiled.  
  
From the thick tropical vegetation, Rousella stood, frozen in her tracks. She had started out trying to locate Noli, but upon her approach to the beachside, was startled to find Noli kissing the Jedi. The young woman considered the way Noli had changed so many plans after finally meeting Obi-Wan. It was too coincidental that Noli wanted him to think she was his teacher rather than his mother, and she wanted to buy him a new wardrobe rather than him wear the worn-out, worker's garb of Bartome. Rousella had suspected that Noli had feelings for Obi-Wan, and now she was sure. There, on the beach, was her proof.  
  
It was partially jealousy on the younger woman's part. She thought that Obi-Wan was very attractive herself - and had even considered a try for his heart. Then, for Noli to go behind her back, pretending that nothing was going on, was all too close to betrayal. Rousella used to look up to Noli, as someone she could respect. But lately things were not falling that way. The younger woman felt increasingly left out of Noli's life - which was now filled with Obi-Wan. Rousella vowed to extract her revenge on Noli. One day - when the timing was right - she would make Noli pay.  
  
  
~~~   
  
  
Qui-Gon Jinn sat alone in the meditation gardens of the Jedi Temple. Seeking solace from the turmoil that was buried deep within his thoughts. The swirling Force waves wrapping around him were comforting, but never quite breached the darkened feelings that caressed his heart. It had been four weeks since Obi-Wan's disappearance, and no leads had been found. The Senate continued its own investigation of the break into the Temple's records. But, Qui-Gon assumed that it was really just being swept under the rug, rather than investigated.  
  
No one seemed to want to help Qui-Gon find any answers - except Nima and Torani. But even with their help, nothing could be uncovered. It looked very hopeless. Qui-Gon knew the longer it took to find Obi-Wan the less chance there was of finding any clues - and the less chance of his being alive. To make matters worse, Researcher Dubelt regretfully informed the Jedi that he could find no way to stop or reverse the virus that was eating away at Obi-Wan's memory. And, it was surmised that the virus would have run its course by now - leaving Obi-Wan with mostly early memories and no hope of recovering that which was lost.  
  
"Gone well, your meditation has not," a familiar voice sighed, interrupting his wandering thoughts. Master Yoda hobbled around to stand in front of Qui-Gon, who was kneeling in a meditative position. His large eyes betrayed sadness.   
  
Unable to face the sadness presented by the wise old councilor, Qui-Gon looked away - his own personal despair more than enough to bear, without having to feel another's too. "No, Master. It has not gone well," Qui-Gon breathed.  
  
"Worry too much, you do. Release your feelings to the Force, you will," the little master advised, tapping Qui-Gon's leg with the tip of his gimer stick to emphasize his point.   
  
Qui-Gon knew Yoda was right. But it was so difficult to - as much as Obi-Wan meant to him. How could he simply let him go. Anyway, that's what it felt like - as if he no longer concerned himself with his padawan, pretending that the young Jedi was no longer in existence. No, he would not think of it like that. He could not.   
  
"Bring news, I do. Listen, you will," Yoda brought his attention back to the present. The little master sighed, calmly waiting for Qui-Gon's undivided attention. When the tall Jedi master rested his eyes on him, he continued. "Come forward, initiate Canash Midoh has. Threatened into switching Obi-Wan's medicine, she was."   
  
Qui-Gon could not believe what he was hearing. After four long weeks of no leads, no clues, suddenly one appeared. "What did she say?" he asked, latching onto the only hope found since his padawan was taken.  
  
"Approached her, a man did. Kill her and her friends, told her he would, if switch the medicine, she would not. Know who the man was, she does not."  
  
Translating the little master's information into a more understandable syntax, Qui-Gon's mind raced. Where could they go now - with this information? It was not a big lead, but it was something. Perhaps more could be learned if he talked to the girl himself. "Where is Canash now?" he asked.  
  
"With Master Nima, she is. Answering questions, is she now. Mind the Force, you will," Yoda's voice rose in volume as Qui-Gon fled the meditation room - leaving the little master alone. "Patience, needs he still to learn," Yoda said to himself, sighing.  
  
  
tbc  
  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: How was that, ~Becky~? I combined two chapters for you, so it would be longer. I also paired the rest of them, too. The last several chapters were not as long as the first few - for some reason it just turned out that way. And I understand. A longer chapter is usually more enjoyable to read than several short ones.   
  
And I want to thank you all so much for reading. - Cascadia 


	7. Revelation

TITLE: PASSAGE OF FEAR  
AUTHOR: Cascadia  
TIME: 7 years pre-TPM, Obi-Wan is 18  
RATING: PG-13  
CATEGORY: Drama/Angst, Non-Slash  
SUMMARY: Someone has infected Obi-Wan with a memory-loss virus. What are their plans for him now?  
ARCHIVE: Please ask first.  
DISCLAIMER: All recognizable characters are the property of Lucasfilm Limited. All the rest belong to me. I receive absolutely no profit from this.  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Anything between * * are personal thoughts. Anything between / / are Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon talking through their bond.  
  
  
  
  
  
~CHAPTER 7 - REVELATION~  
  
  
  
Sitting in a plush chair in Nima's quarters, Qui-Gon had become too relaxed. He moved forward so that he was now perched on the edge - intending it to be less comfortable, and therefore keep him alert. After all, he had not been sleeping well since Obi-Wan's disappearance.  
  
The young initiate Canash Midoh sat on a sofa opposite the tall Jedi master, with Master Nima seated beside her. The girl's head hung from embarrassment - and shame - that she allowed herself to be bullied into harming another person.  
  
"Where did this man find you?" Qui-Gon asked, intending to find out all he could. With this being the only lead in Obi-Wan's disappearance, he was determined to learn all he could - especially since the Republic was of no help - and was possibly covering up something.  
  
"It was when we were out on the streets in front of the Temple. We were playing games," Canash's soft voice was barely a whisper. She kept her head bowed, afraid to meet either Jedi masters' eyes.  
  
"What did he look like? Can you remember anything about him?" Qui-Gon asked, trying to keep his voice calm and understanding towards the girl, so that she would not feel any worse than she already did.   
  
Canash sighed. She had already answered all of these questions. It didn't get any easier the more she told it. "He was... a tall man. About forty years old, I guess. He had dark brown hair...."  
  
Her description went on, and Qui-Gon's questions went on until they were all exhausted. There was really nothing of any importance that Canash knew. The man could have been anyone, from anywhere.  
  
"You may go now," Nima told the girl - who was most grateful to leave. She wasted no time in hurrying from Nima's quarters. After a brief pause of silence, Nima said, "I'm sorry, Qui-Gon. Canash wasn't much help. But at least we know that no one from outside infiltrated the Temple."  
  
Qui-Gon nodded - his mind wandering to his apprentice.  
  
  
~~~  
  
  
Just beyond the outer rim, at the very far fringes of the known Republic, was a little known planetary system full of little known planets - the Toran system. Within was the planet Detti Sikki - nonexistent to the Republic and its trade routes. Deemed too backward for Republic presence and too poor for trading, Detti Sikki lived in virtual isolation from outlanders. Only a few lost ships ever visited its small, windswept surface. Violent winds at night sculpted the landscape into a torn, weather-beaten stratum. Morning was just the opposite, bringing a peaceful, calm weather - not at all like the nighttime. Luckily for the approaching travelers, it was day.   
  
"Land right there," Noli pointed to an upraised mound of turf. The medium-sized Hrudian transport glided gently over treetops, slowing for a proper landing at the designated site. Once securely on the surface, the huge pilot Crand powered down the ship's engines, checking and double checking all of its systems. Crand served not only as Noli's personal pilot, but also as a bodyguard and enforcer. His large size made him a perfect deterrent.  
  
Noli escorted Obi-Wan from the ship, Rousella and Crand trailing behind them. The elder woman studied the sky, then checked her chronometer. She had informed Obi-Wan that he was needed to calm a creature that terrorized the people here. He had practiced entering creature's minds on Catarma. And, if the people were pleased, they would make him their leader. Although he was averse about the whole proposal, Noli convinced him that it was the Force's will for him now. He reluctantly accepted his fate, agreeing to go through with it.  
  
Looking down at his clothes, Obi-Wan winced slightly. "Are you sure about all of this?" he asked, hesitantly. Noli had chosen a completely white outfit for Obi-Wan to wear - loose white tunic, white pants and boots, and a white cloak. It was not exactly what he would have chosen, but Noli insisted it was what was needed in order to fulfill his obligation that the Force had for him. Somehow, he felt that something was not right.   
  
"Yes, Cailean," Noli was tiring of his reluctance. "These people need a ruler. And you have been prepared by the Force to do that. Now just do as I say, and everything will be fine." She took off at a quick pace that all others had to hurry to keep up with.   
  
They walked a short distance without seeing any sign of intelligent life. Rounding a large outcropping of rock, they came upon a city gleaming in the distance. It did not look at all backward, but was a very well developed city - although it appeared that scientific advancements were not very prevalent. They headed toward it.  
  
About to set foot in the city, Obi-Wan had observed the light slowly fading on his way there. Now, although it was still early morning, the darkening made it appear closer to dusk. They walked slowly into the midst of the city, Obi-Wan noticing a few inhabitants watching him. They were human - like himself - but were dressed in earth-toned garments - red and blue clays, various browns. Noli and her two other companions stood silently by.  
  
"Look," called an old man with snow-white hair and a long beard. "It is the Tona-Drandel. He has come at the appointed hour. See, the sun is dipping behind the moon. This is the second time for the eclipse within one cycle."  
  
The man's gaze fixed on Obi-Wan made the young Jedi feel uncomfortable. Obi-Wan stopped walking, staring back at the man, a crowd of onlookers surrounding him.  
  
A child stepped up in front of Obi-Wan, saying, "he is clothed in the white robes of purity."   
  
"And," began the woman with the child, "he has the face of innocence."  
  
"Bring him to the temple. We will show him to the chief," said another voice.  
  
The crowd gestured for Obi-Wan to follow them. It was not far to the temple. The tallest building in the city shone white with majestic flat walls rising uncompromisingly in the air. A set of wide steps led to a set of large, copper-colored double doors. The whole temple was arrayed in white and copper.  
  
Obi-Wan stopped at the base of the steps, unsure of whether to climb them or remain where he was. Looking to Noli for help, Obi-Wan turned back toward the temple when he heard the doors creaking open.   
  
A very old looking man emerged from the temple's doors, cane in hand, white hair and beard reaching far beyond his shoulders - his movements very slow. Seeing Obi-Wan, his eyes immediately brightened. "I am Hapah Dut, the chief here. Come," his voice scratched.   
  
Hesitantly, Obi-Wan climbed the steps - Noli, Rousella, and Crand following.  
  
"To the testing ground," the old man said. Turning slowly, he led them along the temple's veranda, around to the back.   
  
In the back of the temple was an open expanse of land - barren and rugged, with rocks and boulders scattered everywhere. The old man stared out in the far distance, as if searching for something. Obi-Wan scanned the landscape, trying to find what the man was looking for. Noli and her companions did the same.  
  
Suddenly a strange rumbling sound carried over the plain. It was not mechanical, but natural - an animal sound. The rumble grew louder, followed shortly by an unsettling shriek. Obi-Wan inhaled - holding his breath. A large dust cloud rose from the far end of the plain, as the shriek came again.   
  
"The serpentikas," the old man stated - awe and fear apparent in his voice. He turned to Obi-Wan, saying, "go. Only the Tona-Drandel can tame it." Hapah stared at Obi-Wan. "Go," he repeated.  
  
Glancing at Noli, Obi-Wan remembered what she had told him about a creature he would need to touch its mind - to calm it. Nodding at him, she turned her eyes back to the approaching creature. Drawing the Force around him, Obi-Wan stepped from the veranda out onto the plain. He knew she had warned him about pulling from the Force too much, that there was a danger to rely on it too much, and he secretly thought that he gone further than she had deemed safe.   
  
He walked far out into the plain, stopping when the creature turned its course toward him. He could not help but feel a little afraid. What kind of creature was this? Was Noli so sure about what she had told him? His heart pounding, he pulled the Force closer. This was the most power that he remembered feeling from the Force. Yet, it felt strangely familiar to him.  
  
The dust cloud created by the creature came nearer. Now he could make out what it looked like. The serpentikas was a long, scabrous, serpentine creature - a mix of browns and yellows. Its cylindrical body was thick. The scales that covered its body had rough, thick projections - pointed at the tips. Standing his ground, Obi-Wan watched as the creature came up short of him, raising its head - a frightening shriek escaping its sharp-toothed mouth.   
  
Obi-Wan reached out with the Force to touch the creature's mind, finding it very easy. Its mind opened up quickly. Scanning its thoughts, he sensed its predatory impulses and took hold of them. Then he sent a wave of calm. It reared back its head, shrieking. Quickly, he sent another wave of calm. This time the power of the calming Force waves almost paralyzed the creature. It lowered its head toward Obi-Wan, a low thrumming sound coming from it. Peering into its eyes, he saw its placid glaze. Still thrumming, the creature laid its head on the ground before Obi-Wan, its eyes glued to him.  
  
"It is the Tona-Drandel," cried Hapah. The crowd gathered on the veranda cheered. "Come back," the chief called to Obi-Wan. "We will take you to the palace."  
  
The crowd led Obi-Wan, with Noli and her companions, to an elaborately carved building, just on the edge of the city - between the city and a range of rocky mountains. The palace was three stories tall with housing enough for the Tona-Drandel and his servants - as the people called Noli, Rousella, and Crand.  
  
After glancing around the small palace, they met back in the main living area. "This is better than I thought it would be," Noli commented, to the agreement of Crand and Rousella.  
  
However, Obi-Wan felt out of place. This all seemed wrong to him. But, Noli told him this was what the Force wanted. Should he accept that blindly? Perhaps he should probe the Force himself to see if it revealed anything to him, he thought. After all, Noli said she could not sense the Force. Perhaps she was wrong.  
  
Later, when everyone else was occupied, Obi-Wan changed his clothes from the all-white one - which he found not to his taste - to a deep blue cloak over gray pants and a white tunic. When he was sure he was not seen, he slipped out of the palace - climbing up the steep slope of the mountain. He needed time alone, to seek the Force without Noli there. She had warned him not to reach too far, but this was something he could not ignore. The strong waves of the Force that he felt earlier were familiar - as if he had sensed it that powerful before - perhaps even stronger.  
  
  
~~~  
  
  
When Noli returned to the palace, it was nearing night. She searched throughout the house, looking for Obi-Wan. She came into the room Rousella had claimed as her own. "Where's Cailean?" Noli asked the younger woman, who was busy combing her shoulder-length blonde hair.  
  
"Why?" Rousella's voice dripping with sarcasm, not looking at the elder woman.  
  
"Nevermind," Noli said, frowning as she turned to leave Rousella's room.  
  
"Noli," the younger woman's voice was cold.  
  
Turning back to Rousella, Noli saw a small blaster tightly held in the young woman's hand, aimed at Noli. "What are you doing?" Noli asked, not understanding.  
  
"I'm letting you know how I feel about you, Noli," Rousella boasted. Her face showed triumph.  
  
"But," Noli stuttered, "what do you mean?"  
  
"You never treated me like I meant anything to you," the young woman's eyes bore into Noli.  
  
"But, Rousella. We'll be set now," Noli appealed. "I've asked chief Hapah to give us the ore they've been mining to build their houses, and he's agreed. He can't turn us down with the Tona-Drandel on our side. Don't you understand, dear. This is the richest concentration of trizlite I've ever heard of. The Senator has guaranteed expanded and free shipping for Lanovir in exchange. This is the reason we came here and went through all of this trouble." Although Noli would deceive these people, she would not have killed them for the ore. That would have been too much bloodshed, she reasoned.   
  
"I know. And I'll be leaving with it myself... without you," Rousella assured. She kept her blaster trained on Noli. "I'll be in charge of Lanovir with you gone."  
  
"Why are you doing this? I don't understand," Noli continued.  
  
"I saw you with the Jedi. He takes up all your time now. He means more to you than I ever did. And I'm... nothing to you. Like I've always been," Rousella confessed. "You never treated me like a daughter, so I won't treat you like a mother."  
  
"What do you mean you 'saw me with that Jedi'?" the elder woman asked, puzzled. The assertion that she never treated the younger woman as a daughter she easily pushed away.  
  
Rousella's eyes darkened. "I saw you kissing him. And now you'll pay for it."  
  
"You don't understand. There's nothing between us, Rousella," Noli denied.  
  
"Sure," Rousella raised the blaster to eye level, pointing it towards Noli.  
  
Seeing the younger woman's index finger tightening on the trigger, Noli tensed for the shot, preparing herself possibly for death. Suddenly, a blaster fired. But it was not Rousella's - for she fell to the floor.  
  
"She never was trustworthy," Crand said from the doorway, a blaster in his hand.  
  
Noli knelt beside Rousella, checking for a pulse. Finding none, she shook her head sadly.  
  
"Are you ready to leave with the trizlite?" Crand asked casually. He didn't hold life as being of much worth. And he had never liked Rousella either.  
  
Glancing up at Crand, Noli tried to clear her head of thoughts of Rousella. "No. We need to find Cailean. I don't want to leave him here."  
  
"Why not. What's he worth now," Crand asked, holstering his blaster.  
  
Standing, Noli swept past the huge man. "He can always be sold. If one memory wipe worked, so can another."  
  
  
~~~  
  
  
Vicious winds, growing in intensity, formed just beyond the horizon. They were just starting to form on the tattered surface of Detti Sikki. Those who had lived their entire lives here knew to stay hidden from the angry nighttime conditions. But outlanders... they had their own ideas.  
  
Obi-Wan found the rugged mountain terrain a challenge to traverse. Nevertheless, he ascended the uneven steep slope, heading towards the higher ground of the mountain range. The sweeping winds tossed his loose cloak violently about. Pulling it tighter around him, he braved the twisting atmospheric conditions, increasing his distance from the city below. Finding a large, smooth, stony surface surrounded on three sides by huge boulders, he knelt down to probe the Force. It was a good place to stay protected from the rising winds. He could possibly stay here all night, if need be.  
  
Settling himself in the rocky niche, Obi-Wan closed his eyes, concentrating on the Force. He calmed his mind, pushing everything from his thoughts. The storm around him seemed to drift slowly away - leaving his consciousness in a sealed vacuum.   
  
Then he reached out, hesitantly at first, to test the power that was only hinted at when he faced the serpentikas creature. A gush of power quickly filled him, knocking him out of his meditation. He took a moment to regain his focus and grasp on the Force. Relaxing, he reached out again, steeling himself for the onslaught of raw Force power that he expected to come.  
  
This time, he did not draw back, but remained firmly attuned to the focusing power. It came quickly, filling him with such intensity that, although his eyes were closed, he saw a bright, white light. He involuntarily gasped, but held himself open to its all-consuming power. As its intensity steadily grew, he felt his consciousness drifting. The white light, the rushing power, seemed to breach his entire being, and he fell unconscious to the stony surface.  
  
  
~~~  
  
  
"It looks like he went this way," Crand told Noli. They had been searching all around the palace for signs of where Obi-Wan had fled to. Crand was a man of many talents. Not only was he Noli's pilot and bodyguard, but he also had an interest in weaponry and hunting. So tracking another being was not difficult to the giant man.   
  
Following the trail left by Obi-Wan, Noli and Crand scaled the rocky slope up the mountain. Crand paused periodically, studying the ground, then he would travel on until he needed to study the ground again.   
  
Angry winds whipped up around them, nearly making them lose their footing. Noli grasp onto boulders and small plants to keep herself from falling. Crand charged on ahead - a predator tracking his prey.   
  
Looking ahead, Crand saw a small niche between boulders. A perfect place to hide, the man thought. If that little Jedi was trying to escape from the storm, then that would be the perfect place. "Come on. I think we found him," Crand shouted above the blowing winds. He readied his blaster, preparing for a struggle.  
  
At the entrance to the niche, Noli and Crand paused, letting their eyes adjust to the darker light within.   
  
"Are you looking for me?" asked a calm voice, just as the two interlopers' eyes focused on the subject of their search. He was standing, facing them, his arms relaxed at his sides.   
  
Noli stepped further into the niche, toward Obi-Wan. "Why did you run off like that? The storm winds are dangerous out here," she admonished.  
  
"I'm not playing your little game anymore," Obi-Wan informed them. "And we're going to leave here now," he said confidently.  
  
"What are you talking about, Cailean?" Noli frowned. She took another step closer to the young Jedi. Crand remained at the door to the rocky niche, his blaster ready, but hidden from Obi-Wan's view.  
  
"Don't call me Cailean. You know that's not my name," Obi-Wan replied calmly. "And I don't know why you've played out this charade, but I'm through with it. I do understand that you wanted me to enter that creature's mind for you, and become this people's leader. And I don't understand why, but it's going to stop right now." He paused, stretching out his hand - palm side up - toward Crand, "now hand over the blaster."  
  
Noli and Crand did not move. Both were in a state of shock.   
  
Seeing their confusion, Obi-Wan elaborated, "I know I'm a Jedi, and I know what my real name is, and... I remember everything." He glanced back at Crand. "Give me the blaster."  
  
"No," Noli said. "You can't remember everything. The virus destroyed your memory. It was permanent. There is no cure," Noli blinked back her unbelief.  
  
Staring into her eyes, Obi-Wan said, "The Force is more powerful than you realize. You shouldn't try to control something that you don't understand."  
  
"It... healed you?" Noli questioned, unbelief still evident in her tone.  
  
"Yes," Obi-Wan said simply. "Now, are you going to cooperate or do you want to play rough?" he calmly asked.  
  
Suddenly, Crand stepped to the side of Noli, preparing to fire his blaster at Obi-Wan, who quickly reached his hand out toward Crand's weapon. The blaster flew from the huge man's grasp, into the waiting hand of Obi-Wan.   
  
Aiming the weapon at Noli and Crand, he quietly asked, "shall we go now?"   
  
Too stunned to do anything else, the two captives led the way down the mountain, with Obi-Wan following them. It was getting difficult to travel in the windstorm, but they managed to reach the palace without much difficulty.   
  
Once in the palace, Obi-Wan locked Noli and Crand in a small closet. He decided it would be better to leave in the morning. He was much too tired to try to keep two prisoners in line, and the winds outside were becoming too intense.   
  
He found Rousella's body lying on her bedroom's floor, guessing that Noli or Crand had killed her. There was something uneasy between Rousella and Noli, he had observed, but never guessed it was this bad. He covered her body with the blankets from her bed and shut the door to her room.  
  
There was no way he could contact anyone except from Noli's ship, but that was not feasible at the moment with the weather. Deciding there was nothing more he could do tonight, Obi-Wan laid in his bed to sleep.  
  
  
~~~  
  
  
In the morning, Obi-Wan sought chief Hapah. The old man was in front of the temple, talking with the city's elders. He told the chief that he needed to leave, and - despite the man's initial objections - Obi-Wan told the chief that he was expected to lead the people now. Hapah reluctantly agreed. Obi-Wan did not want to tell the people that he was not supposed to be their leader. He was a Jedi. That was his calling in life.  
  
After Noli and Crand refused to carry Rousella's body to the ship, Obi-Wan decided to leave her with the people. He did not want to try to carry her himself while watching Noli and Crand, so he left instructions to give her a burial. Then he escorted his prisoners to the ship. Noli and Crand did not bother appealing to the people for help escaping, since Obi-Wan was so esteemed by them. It would accomplish nothing.  
  
Once in the ship, Obi-Wan saw the huge piles of rocks filling nearly all available space. "What is this?" he asked, confused.  
  
"The reason we came here, dear," Noli said. Obi-Wan watched her for further explanation, but she offered none.   
  
"Alright, get in there," the young Jedi told Noli and Crand, indicating a cabin, intending to lock them up.   
  
Noli chuckled lowly. "Do you think we're so stupid," she smiled. "You can't lock us up. We know the lock code on every door in here. We can override anything you set it to."  
  
Obi-Wan glanced over the door lock, seeing that it was possible that she could be telling the truth. He experimented with it, trying to change the code himself, but all he received was rude beeps indicating that he had not been successful.   
  
"Okay," he said, giving up. "Then let's go to the cockpit." He gestured the direction with his blaster. Once in the cockpit, Obi-Wan looked over the pilot controls, keeping his attention divided between the prisoners and the controls.  
  
"Wrong again, sweet Jedi," Noli boasted. "Only Crand here can fly this ship. He designed the layout and set all the codes himself. There's no way you'd ever figure it all out."  
  
Obi-Wan glanced at Noli, seeing her smug countenance. Then he looked to Crand. He tried to probe their thoughts, but found both of them were tightly sealed. The situation was making him uneasy. He thought he had everything under control, but these two were one step ahead of him.  
  
"Fly," Obi-Wan ordered Crand. "You," he said to Noli, "sit down." Noli nodded to the big man. After Crand sat in the pilot's seat, Noli sat in the seat just behind him. Then, Obi-Wan sat in the co-pilot's seat.   
  
They escaped Detti Sikki's gravity well and headed away from the planet. "Set a course for Coruscant," Obi-Wan told Crand. He watched the big man punch a code onto the console. He could only hope that Crand was obeying him.  
  
"You don't possibly think you can take us back to Coruscant, do you," Noli laughed.  
  
"I do," Obi-Wan stated. Sitting where he could see both Crand and Noli, he kept the blaster pointed between them. "And I don't know what those rocks are that you have, but I suspect that someone else will. Everything will be straightened out when we get back to the Temple. I want you to send a transmission there," he told Crand. "Now," he added when the big man made no move. Crand chuckled lightly to himself, never looking at Obi-Wan.   
  
"Why should we obey a little padawan?" Noli said. "You're no threat to us. I have a Force-dampening field on this ship that I can turn on anytime I want to," she confessed. Crand chuckled again.   
  
Obi-Wan wondered if she were lying. She seemed so sure of herself. That only made him feel more wary of the situation. What all could she possibly have in store?  
  
"And don't threaten you'll hurt one of us if we don't do what you say," Noli warned. "You're a Jedi, and you wouldn't go through with it. So just sit back and enjoy the ride."  
  
"Shut up," Obi-Wan ordered, growing worried. This was not how it was supposed to go. Would his master have this much trouble? Probably not, he thought.   
  
Crand and Noli sat in silence. Crand stared out the front viewport, his hands resting on the console. Periodically the big man would make adjustments on the console. Noli just stared Obi-Wan. Trying to ignore her, he reached to the Force for calm.  
  
"I liked you much better when you were Cailean," Noli stated flatly. Crand chuckled at the remark, keeping his gaze out the viewport. "You know, you were actually very sweet. Too bad you remembered everything." Seeing that Obi-Wan refused to look at her, she went on, "do you remember the time we had on the beach, sweet little Jedi," Noli's voice turned mocking.   
  
"Shut up," Obi-Wan countered.   
  
"Would you like to do that again... or are you too afraid?" Noli insinuated.  
  
"I told you to shut up," he said, about to lose his calm center. He was beginning to wonder if he would be able to make it back to Coruscant with these two. With Noli's staring and mocking, and Crand's annoying laughter, Obi-Wan was close to losing his focus. If Noli did not get quiet, he decided he would put her in a Force-induced sleep. However, she said no more.  
  
After a couple hours of silence, Obi-Wan glanced at Noli. She was asleep in her seat. Crand remained transfixed on the streaks outside the front viewscreen. Obi-Wan needed to come up with a plan. With the two of them, they could take turns sleeping. But he would have to stay awake, unless he put them asleep or stunned one or both of them with the blaster. But he still could not pilot the ship. He checked the weapon, noting that there was a stun setting. That was one thing in his favor. Realizing that it would take several days to reach the Core Worlds, Obi-Wan knew this was not going to be an easy trip.  
  
  
~~~  
  
  
Senator Thar Rakil had just received the transmission from Nolamia Cordone that the shipload of trizlite was about to leave Detti Sikki. Pleased beyond anything else in his political career, the fat Warisellan sent a confirmation to his home world that the shipment was on its way. The deal had been struck that Miss Cordone would use the Jedi to obtain the trizlite without any trouble from the natives there. Then, she would deliver the load to Warisell, where the government would sell the trizlite - which was a very profitable substance. Warisell had stripped its surface of useful elements, leaving it with a failing economy. The rich trizlite would undoubtedly safe the planet from falling into poverty.  
  
As the chairman of the Senate Committee on New World Discovery and Exploration, Rakil had been informed of a little known world that possessed an abundant supply of trizlite. He kept the matter to himself, even paying off the cargo pilot who had been unfortunate enough to make an emergency landing on the small planet. Then he proceeded to rally Warisell's corrupt government behind the deception.  
  
It was all paying off now - the break into the Temple's records to find a timely subject for the Stakeptovitus virus, the threatening of the small Jedi initiate to make the drug switch, and the kidnapping of the Jedi. All he had to do was wait for the shipment to arrive on Warisell. Now he could call on the senators that owed him favors to get Lanovir's shipping tax-free, and allow it to expand in areas previously off limits. Assured that the shipment would arrive on Warisell within a few hours, Rakil started making the calls to help Lanovir.  
  
  
~~~  
  
  
As Crand made a few adjustments on the piloting console, the ship abruptly dropped out of hyperspace. Obi-Wan sat forward, staring at the planet looming in the viewscreen. He had nearly fallen asleep. But fortunately, Crand had not noticed.  
  
"Where are we?" Obi-Wan asked, perplexed. Staring at the planet, he noted that it did not look familiar, and they had not traveled far enough to go much beyond the Outer Rim. He glared at Crand. "I asked you where we are?" he reiterated. When Crand gave him no mind, Obi-Wan looked to Noli.  
  
Noli was just waking up. She stretched lazily, before turning her attention to Obi-Wan.   
  
"What planet is this?" he demanded of her.  
  
"That's not important, sweet little Jedi. What is, is that we will land there. And there's nothing you can do about it," the woman advised.  
  
Obi-Wan had no idea where they were, and his two prisoners had the upper hand. He may have had the blaster, but they were flying the ship. He watched helplessly as the ship entered the atmosphere and proceeded toward the surface. *Master, where are you?* he wondered.  
  
  
tbc  
  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I think this part was a little weak myself. The refining just wasn't going well, and besides that I'm a little tired of this story. I just want to get it out as fast as possible and move on to something else. But thank you all so much for your interest. I DO appreciate your comments. - Cascadia 


	8. Resolution

TITLE: PASSAGE OF FEAR  
AUTHOR: Cascadia  
TIME: 7 years pre-TPM, Obi-Wan is 18  
RATING: PG-13  
CATEGORY: Drama/Angst, Non-Slash  
SUMMARY: Someone has infected Obi-Wan with a memory-loss virus. What are their plans for him now?  
ARCHIVE: Please ask first.  
DISCLAIMER: All recognizable characters are the property of Lucasfilm Limited. All the rest belong to me. I receive absolutely no profit from this.  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Anything between * * are personal thoughts. Anything between / / are Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon talking through their bond.  
  
  
  
  
  
~CHAPTER 8 - RESOLUTION~  
  
  
  
Staring out the front viewport, Obi-Wan saw the legion of Warisellan soldiers, all heavily armed, surrounding the ship. Crand had landed the Hrudian transport at the main military spaceport on Warisell. It looked hopeless, Obi-Wan thought. He could try to fight his way out - although he would likely be killed or injured very badly. Even if he were able to escape the soldiers, what then? Where could he go? He would probably be hunted down. He could try to use Noli or Crand as a hostage. But again, where could he go? The whole planet would be after him. He would willingly give his life as a Jedi, but he would not if it served no purpose, nor helped anyone else. Doing anything but surrendering now would only be suicide, he reasoned. And his own sense of self-preservation kept him from trying anything too desperate. He had tried to contact Qui-Gon several times before through their bond, without success. He was not sure where he was, but it was far enough away from Qui-Gon that the connection could not reach him. He could sense him through the Force, but that was all.  
  
"Come on, little padawan," Noli sneered. "Your fans are waiting." She held out her hand towards the blaster in Obi-Wan's hand.  
  
Hesitating, Obi-Wan quickly considered his decision again. Then he reluctantly handed her the weapon. Crand roughly pushed him when he did not immediately follow Noli out.  
  
Out in the bright mid-day light, the three new arrivals stopped in the midst of the Warisellan legion. The scaly, blue Warisellan soldiers approached them, weapons readied.   
  
"This one's the Jedi," Noli announced loudly, as she pointed to Obi-Wan. Then she and Crand walked through the soldiers, who cleared a path for them.   
  
Surrounded, Obi-Wan tried not to flinch when one guard snapped a Force-inhibiting collar around his neck. Then, as he was quickly escorted in the direction Noli had disappeared in, he wondered what they had in store for him. As far as he knew, Noli was finished with him. Her goal was accomplished. So, what would happen to him now?  
  
After a short walk, Obi-Wan was pushed in a speeder and whisked away to a large building - the Governor's mansion, Obi-Wan learned. On the way there, he noticed how barren and poor the landscape of Warisell appeared. Although he had never been to this planet before, he guessed that this was a poverty-stricken planet - or very nearly there.   
  
Before entering the house, his wrists were restrained in front of him by a set of binders. Then a small squad of soldiers led him in the mansion.   
  
Sparsely furnished, the Governor's mansion confirmed the padawan's suspicions that Warisell was in economic trouble. There were a few once-expensive pieces of furniture and art, but they were decrepit. Even the mansion itself showed signs of neglect.  
  
The guards stopped in front of a door, keying in a code. When the door opened, Obi-Wan was taken into the Governor's personal study. Bookshelves filled with decaying books lined the walls, and a small desk sat in the corner. Seated behind the desk was a tall Warisellan. His short snout wrinkled at the appearance of the Jedi prisoner.   
  
"We have made a deal with Miss Cordone," the Warisellan governor plainly stated, his red eyes steady. "You will be sold, and the profits will be split between our government and Lanovir."  
  
Obi-Wan's heart sank. He would rather be kept prisoner here than be sold as a slave. However, he had no choice in the matter.  
  
"We will make a holo of you to send to an acquaintance of mine to see if he is interested. He owns a vineyard and is always in need of field workers," the Governor continued. "If he is not, then we will look for another buyer. A Jedi is sometimes a hard thing to sell," he said like he knew from experience. "Some don't want to live with the fear of what a Jedi can do. Others take it as a challenge. I believe my friend will be pleased to buy a Jedi... but the decision is his." He nodded to someone behind Obi-Wan.  
  
One of the soldiers came before him, holding a holo-recorder in his hand. The soldier pointed it at Obi-Wan and turned it on.   
  
After a few seconds, the Governor said, "raise your head up. So we can get a good view of you."  
  
Self-consciously, Obi-Wan raised his head slightly, stealing a quick glance at the recorder. He realized that resisting would only make things worse for him, and nothing would be gained. He would have to bide his time until a possible escape could be found.  
  
"That's better," the Governor assured.  
  
This was all happening so fast. Obi-Wan's mind wandered to his master. Before, the distance kept him from reaching Qui-Gon through the Force. Now, he had a Force-inhibiting collar that effectively blocked any communication. *Will Master Qui-Gon ever find me?* he thought miserably.   
  
  
~~~  
  
  
"I was going to wipe your memory again," Noli said. "But I changed my mind, because I want you to remember everything I've done to you... so you can hate me." Noli had insisted that she wanted to talk to Obi-Wan after his meeting with the Warisellan Governor. She stood with him in the midst of the mansion's dried up gardens. Guards stood nearby, keeping watch over them.  
  
"There is no emotion, there is peace," Obi-Wan quietly replied, reciting a tenet of the Jedi Code. His wrists were still held by the binders - and the Force-inhibiting collar remained in place. But he felt a small sense of victory in defying her confused logic.  
  
Noli glared at him. "When you've been a slave for thirty years, you'll look back to this day and you WILL hate me," she declared. "You'll never be a Jedi Knight. All of your life has been wasted in stupid training, just so you can be a slave. And your master... he'll wonder for the rest of his life whatever happened to you."  
  
Although Obi-Wan's outward appearance was calm, inside his emotions were in a state of turmoil. What if Noli was right, and he was a slave for the rest of his life - never attaining the level of Jedi Knight? And what about Master Qui-Gon? Obi-Wan feared that the man would never get past what he perceived as his own failure to protect his padawan. Obi-Wan knew he himself was known to be very sensitive, and Qui-Gon was usually regarded as nearly emotionless - almost callous by those who did not know him. But the padawan knew that despite Qui-Gon's usual outward peace, there was a very sensitive man beneath. And if he blamed himself for Obi-Wan's loss, he would never move beyond that failure.  
  
Guards suddenly appeared around them, breaking Obi-Wan from his thoughts. "A deal has been reached," one of the soldiers announced, as they took possession of him and escorted him away.  
  
"Have a nice life," Noli called after him.  
  
  
~~~  
  
  
Qui-Gon stood, watching master/padawan teams engaged in strenuous training exercises. It had been weeks since last training with his own padawan. He realized that he was allowing himself to sink into depression. Healer J'Reedon warned him about worrying too much. But it was beginning to look like he would never find Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon even noticed his padawan's Force signature disappear, but he decided to tell no one.  
  
"Qui-Gon," a voice drew him back to his surroundings. "Qui-Gon." It was Mace. The councilor rushed up to him, excitement in his actions.  
  
"What is it, Mace," Qui-Gon asked, uncertainly.  
  
"I have something I need to tell you," Mace said, pulling the tall Jedi master over to a bench and directing him to sit down. With Qui-Gon seated, Mace continued. "We just received a transmission. It's from a lawyer on Tirtam who sent a last request message from someone named Sorru Teanyl. He was a shipment pilot for Lanovir Mining Systems. Before he died, he wanted to get his conscience clear. He admitted to smuggling a young Jedi captive from Jatamansi to Catarma. It was an order from Lanovir's heiress, Nolamia Cordone. He sent the exact coordinates of the drop-off," Mace said, ecstatic.  
  
Qui-Gon could not believe what he was hearing. This was what they needed to find Obi-Wan. And now they had a suspect in the padawan's disappearance.  
  
"There's more," Mace continued. "I checked on Lanovir's possible connections with the Senate. It seems that there's been a petitioning by Lanovir to get more shipping routes approved, and to eliminate some of the taxes on shipped goods." He paused for effect. "Senator Thar Rakil of Warisell is the senator pushing for its approval."  
  
Now it was all starting to make sense. Lanovir was making deals with Rakil, but in exchange for what? What did the senator gain? And it still did not explain what Obi-Wan was needed for.  
  
Qui-Gon jumped up from the bench, leaving the training salles. Mace followed after him. "What are you doing?" Mace asked when he caught up with him.  
  
"I'm going to find my padawan," Qui-Gon answered, never slowing from his hurried pace.  
  
"Hold on, Qui-Gon," Mace shook his head. "You're not going alone. I'll send a team with you."  
  
"Very well, Mace. But I'm not waiting. If they are not ready when I get a shuttle, then I'm leaving without them," Qui-Gon calmly said, still hurrying to the hanger.  
  
Mace stopped, pulling out a com-link. "Larn, I need a team ready... NOW."  
  
  
~~~  
  
  
The ride to Catarma was too slow for a certain tall Jedi master - taking days to reach Catarma. If it were at all possible, Qui-Gon would have teleported there. He thought back to the last time he had seen his padawan. They were in the small restaurant in Jata, and Obi-Wan wanted to order the rich Parth steak with four side dishes. The padawan knew he could not consume it all, but was going to try out of desperation. Qui-Gon suddenly realized that he was now just as desperate to find Obi-Wan. He needed to release these feelings to the Force. Only then could he keep his focus on the present. Sure, he wanted to find Obi-Wan, but to do so blindly would only defeat his purpose.  
  
Nima and Torani had arrived at the Temple's hanger just as Qui-Gon was about to leave. He was not kidding about leaving alone if no one else was ready. He was prepared to search for Obi-Wan by himself. But the welcome addition of an old friend was comforting. He knew he could rely on Nima. And Torani was progressing fine in her training. She would only be a help, too. It was reassuring that he was with people he knew he could trust.   
  
Now, the three of them waited - very impatiently - for their shuttle to reach Catarma. None of them had ever been there before. It was not a very populated planet - with over ninety-five percent of the surface water. But they had the coordinates of where Obi-Wan was handed over to Nolamia Cordone. So it would not be difficult to find Cordone's manor house. And hopefully, Obi-Wan would be there.   
  
Qui-Gon did not want to think about if his padawan was not there, if they came up on another snag. Still, this was the best lead they had - and a good one it seemed.  
  
A few hours later, their shuttle landed gently at a safe distance from the manor house - so as to not be heard or seen. A surprise attack was what the Jedi had in mind. They disembarked the shuttle and crept through the dense tropical vegetation towards their destination. Qui-Gon led the way, with Nima and Torani following, keeping watch in all directions. They did not know what they might be coming up against. There could be a private army waiting, or there could be no one. But they could not take any chances. It was probable that whoever was here was not going to be friendly to Jedi.  
  
Qui-Gon stopped at the edge of the floral cover, spying the house in plain view. This looked like the back of the place. There was a wide, covered garden that was connected to the house. They would have to go through the garden to enter the house from this direction.   
  
Qui-Gon reached out with the Force, sensing a few lifeforms in the house. Nima and Torani came up behind him. They crouched behind tall ferns, waving in the breeze. With the light nearly gone, they decided to wait until it was dark to make their attack.  
  
Within a couple hours, night had settled in - and the moon dance began in the sky. It was beautiful, the Jedi agreed, but it provided more light than they would have preferred.   
  
Together, they moved silently through the covered garden and reached the back door. Cautiously, Qui-Gon tried the door, finding that it was not locked. It swished open - showing a long hallway lined with doors. Qui-Gon swallowed nervously, peering over his shoulder at Nima who was right behind him. Giving an approving nod, Nima realized that Qui-Gon was probably more uneasy than either she or Torani was. Obi-Wan meant so much to him - he was like a son. And therefore, it was more difficult to keep himself grounded in the Force.  
  
They crept down the hallway, pausing periodically before each door, sensing if there was anyone there. Suddenly, they detected someone approaching. They quickly fled into one of the rooms that they had already detected was empty and waited. Just as the person passed the door, Qui-Gon jumped into the hallway, pulling the unsuspecting person back against him. His arm was around the woman's neck, and in the other hand he had his ignited lightsabre held before her face.  
  
"Where is my padawan?" Qui-Gon asked menacingly - so much so that Nima and Torani exchanged startled glances. Qui-Gon silently berated himself for letting his worry get to him. He would need to be calm - and listen to the Force - in order to function at his best.  
  
The woman squirmed, but Qui-Gon only held her tighter - bringing his blade closer to her face.  
  
"Let me go," she called out. "Crand, help me," she shouted. Qui-Gon whirled around when the huge bodyguard appeared at the end of the hall - a blaster in his hand.  
  
Nima and Torani held their ground behind Qui-Gon. They were all using the woman as a cover.   
  
"Where is my padawan?" Qui-Gon demanded again.  
  
The woman stopped struggling. "Oh, so you're the master," her voice now oily. "I didn't think you Jedi were smart enough to figure it out."   
  
Crand just stood watching, his blaster ready.   
  
"What have you done with him?" Qui-Gon questioned.  
  
"Wouldn't you like to know, Jedi master," she sneered.  
  
"Tell us what we want, and perhaps we can make a deal," Nima offered. "Testify against Senator Rakil and we'll see that your sentence is lightened."  
  
"Why should I do that?" Noli debated. "You Jedi can't guarantee anything where the Republic's concerned."  
  
"We'll do what we can," Nima encouraged.  
  
During all the talk, Noli had sneaked a small knife from her pocket. Quickly, she plunged the blade in Qui-Gon's arm that held her. Drawing back from the unexpected pain, the tall Jedi master involuntarily let go of Noli. She darted forward down the hall towards Crand, who provided blaster cover for her escape. The Jedi blocked the blaster fire with their lightsabres until the two suspects disappeared around the corner at the end of the hall.  
  
Qui-Gon charged after them, drawing on the Force to keep his focus. Turning the corner of the hallway, he paused - reaching out to sense where Noli and her bodyguard had disappeared to.   
  
Nima and Torani left through the back door to spread out and search.  
  
Seeing an open doorway, Qui-Gon stepped through into a large foyer. He traveled through to the front door and went outside.  
  
Hearing an low hum, Qui-Gon ran to the side of the manor house to find the source of the sound. It was an open speeder with Noli and the big man in it. After running to the speeder, Qui-Gon jumped, landing on Crand, who was in the driver's seat. The two men wrestled in the cramped front seats. Watching wide-eyed, Noli was pushed back against the side door.   
  
Nima and Torani arrived at the speeder, seeing Qui-Gon wrestling with the huge man.   
  
Crand managed to draw his blaster from its holster, despite Qui-Gon's attempts to prevent him. Then Qui-Gon grabbed the man's arm, trying to push the barrel away. Crand, sure that he had Qui-Gon, pulled the trigger. The blast was answered with a shrill cry as Noli slumped over, taking the impact in her chest. Momentarily distracted by Noli's pained cry, Crand lost the battle for the blaster. Qui-Gon climbed out of the speeder and kept the blaster trained on the huge bodyguard.   
  
Crand pulled Noli's body across his lap. Seeing her lifeless body, Crand bowed his head, touching his forehead against hers. "No," he pleaded softly. He paid no more attention to the Jedi - his attention focused on the woman whom he had served as her faithful bodyguard, pilot, and anything else she required. There was never anything romantic between them, but Crand cared very deeply for her. "Please, Noli," his voice breaking. "Please don't die."  
  
After scanning her with the Force, Qui-Gon discovered that she already was dead. The three Jedi stood solemnly by as Crand mourned.  
  
  
~~~  
  
  
Row after row of Creffer vines ran on for acres. The deep-green leafed flora sprouted small, tart citrine-colored berries, which were used to make cazher wine - an expensive commodity in the Republic. Harvested year around, the fruit was easy to collect, but nevertheless a very tedious job - and not one that any cazher mogul would submit himself to. That job was reserved for field workers - or in some cases, slaves. There was no danger in the labor, except for the tiny thorns that dotted the stems. It was a painstaking job for anyone, even more so for those who wanted to save their skin from endless cuts and scratches.  
  
This particular vineyard employed almost entirely slaves. There were a few overseers who were free, but the majority were in servitude. The overseers periodically checked the rows to insure that the slaves did not waste time. Most were never guilty of such a crime, but those that were fell subject to the guards stationed there. Punishments were not handed out without clearly breaking the rules. The slaves who were found guilty of a crime paid harshly, but rarely suffered death.  
  
The slave-master here was an average-sized human, with dark hair and penetrating eyes. He dealt shrewdly with his slaves, never letting them see in him any weakness or compassion. And he had an air of authority that even his guards jumped at.  
  
A tall guard strolled through the vast vineyard, glancing down each row. Spying a young man midway down a row, the guard turned and stopped just behind the kneeling figure. "Get up, the master wants to see you," said the guard casually.  
  
Obi-Wan glanced over his shoulder to the tall man standing over him. Slowly he stood, trying to prevent his back from burning. Last night he had attempted to escape from the estate, only to be surprised that remote sensors were spaced periodically throughout the entire surrounding land and house. The course brown cloth of his simple tunic did little to prevent more pain to his whip-striped back. Wincing, the young man wiped his dirty hands on his pants legs, trying to clean himself up as much as he could. The master did not like to see his slaves unless they were well bathed.  
  
After a week here, Obi-Wan was beginning to wonder if he would truly live out the rest of his life here. Was Noli right? He tried to not think about that possibility too much, but he didn't want to hold false hope either. Gingerly, he followed the guard to the estate house where the slave-master resided. What could the man want with him, Obi-Wan wondered? It was a little frightening not knowing. And with his Force ability cut off by the inhibiting collar, he had difficulty controlling his fear. The closer he got to the house, the more nervous he felt. He didn't think that the man would beat him for no reason, but he had only been here a week, so he could not be sure.   
  
After climbing the steps to the front door, Obi-Wan was pulled by the guard through the parlor room and into the master's study. Immediately the young man's eyes fell on a tall, serene figure with long hair and beard. Obi-Wan tried to hide his recognition, as the tall man was not dressed in his Jedi robes - obviously undercover so as to not betray any Republic affiliation, which would only stir up contempt from slaveholders. As both the eyes of the slave-master and Obi-Wan's Jedi master rested on him, his anxiety mixed with relief. He diverted his eyes back to the floor - where proper slaves were supposed to look - although he found it difficult to not stare at Qui-Gon. After all, it had been a long time since he had been in his presence.  
  
"You see," the slave-master said. "He is a fine slave, but I feel that he keeps his defiance hidden until he finds a way to try an escape. I wanted a Force-sensitive because I'd never had one before. He's not much different than a regular slave if you keep the collar on him. Only," he paused, considering, "the fact that he was a Jedi apprentice makes him a little more deceptive in his thinking. You think he'll be no trouble, but then he tries to escape... like he did last night."  
  
"Did you punish him," Qui-Gon asked coolly - betraying no sign of genuine concern.   
  
"Yes. And I'm not sure if he's learned his lesson either. But our security here can handle him. I really don't want to part with him. I've only had him a week... but if the price is right, I could reconsider."  
  
This was very humiliating and embarrassing to Obi-Wan. He was a sentient being, not to be bought and sold like a beast of burden. And he had no say in what was decided regarding him.  
  
Qui-Gon wondered if Obi-Wan remembered him - or the fact that he was a Jedi. The slave-master knew Obi-Wan was a Jedi, but did the padawan remember? According to Researcher Garil Dubelt, Obi-Wan may not remember much of anything. Qui-Gon noted that the padawan did not seem to recognize him when he was first brought in the room.   
  
Following the capture of Crand, the huge man agreed to cooperate with authorities in order to bring down Senator Thar Rakil, in exchange for a lighter prison sentence. The man was totally broken after Noli's death. So, he readily accepted the Republic's offer. Crand told all about Noli's plan with the Warisellan government and Obi-Wan's slavery at a cazher vineyard.   
  
"If it's not too much to ask, could I know how much you paid for him?" The Jedi master came prepared with a credit chip with an unlimited balance - provided by the Jedi Temple. Although he did not want to just throw credits at the slave-master, Qui-Gon was not going to let Obi-Wan get away either.   
  
"I prefer not to say," the slave-master replied, smoothly - testing Qui-Gon's interest.  
  
"I'll pay you twice what you paid for him," Qui-Gon boldly stated - his face remaining neutral. He hoped so badly that he was not being too aggressive. The man would not have to sell Obi-Wan to him, and Mace had warned Qui-Gon to not 'go in with your lightsabre flying, striking down everything that moves in your way to get to Obi-Wan'. He reached for his source of calm - the Force - and refocused his thoughts on the whispers it sent his way.  
  
The slave-master walked over to Obi-Wan - who still focused his gaze on the floor before him - and combed his fingers through the young man's hair, considering Qui-Gon's offer.   
  
Closing his eyes, Obi-Wan fought to not shrink away from the man's touch. Up to this point, the slave-master had not shown any interest in him - except as a field slave. Perhaps the man was only contemplating Obi-Wan's overall worth.  
  
Turning back to Qui-Gon, the slave-master responded, "You can have him for two hundred thousand credits, no less." Then he seemed to relax... putting all the pressure on Qui-Gon.  
  
Qui-Gon drew in his breath at the price. That was a steep price, for any slave - inflated, Qui-Gon thought. Then he admonished himself for putting a price on anyone's life.  
  
Taking the delay for loss of interest, the slave-master replied, "I'm sorry, but I will go no lower. You are welcome to look at any other slaves I have. Most of my slaves here are workers... so you won't find much to satisfy uh... other interests," he smiled cruelly.  
  
Noticing his palms drenched in perspiration, Obi-Wan unconsciously wiped them on his pants.  
  
"No," Qui-Gon said - all too quickly. "I accept the price." Handing the credit chip to the slave-master, he continued, "you will find enough on my credit chip."  
  
The seller took the chip, inserted it in a reader, and returned it to Qui-Gon. "He's yours now." Then he picked up an ownership data-pad from the room's dark-wooden desk, handing it to Qui-Gon. "And I must warn you, he has not received a tracking implant yet. I was out of them and had to order more... and they haven't arrived yet. So," he said, pausing, "you might want to keep a close eye on him," he confided.  
  
"Thank you," Qui-Gon replied. "I'll do that."  
  
Taking hold of Obi-Wan's arm, the Jedi master gently led the young man out the door and to a parked speeder - rented by Qui-Gon as part of his cover. After settling Obi-Wan in the passenger seat, Qui-Gon took the speeder's controls and sped away. He wanted to get Obi-Wan as far away from here as possible.   
  
Qui-Gon drove in silence. Although he was relieved to get Obi-Wan back, he feared that his padawan would never recover his memory.   
  
Despite still wearing the Force-inhibiting collar, Obi-Wan sensed the tension coming from his master. He knew the man well enough to recognize it and realized that Qui-Gon must believe that he did not remember him. He did not know Obi-Wan had been healed by the Force.  
  
Too wrapped up in his relief to have Obi-Wan back and too worried over the padawan's memory, Qui-Gon did not pick up on Obi-Wan's thoughts.  
  
"Are you my new master?" the young man asked, innocently.  
  
"Yes," Qui-Gon answered softly, thinking his fears confirmed. Obi-Wan did not know him.  
  
"What planet are you taking me to?" Obi-Wan asked, playing along.  
  
Pausing, the Jedi master said, "Coruscant."  
  
"What are you going to make me do?" Obi-Wan said.  
  
"You can do anything you want," the Jedi master responded softly.  
  
Obi-Wan frowned. "No discipline? What kind of master are you, anyway?" he said sarcastically.  
  
Taken by surprise and confused by such a response, Qui-Gon glanced at Obi-Wan and nearly directed the speeder into a bush to the side. He directed his attention back to driving the speeder, taking a moment to organize his thoughts.  
  
Obi-Wan chuckled at his master's loss of control of the vehicle. "And Master Vanoll says you're too harsh," Obi-Wan smirked.  
  
Qui-Gon glanced at the padawan, realization dawning. "Obi-Wan?" he asked.  
  
"Yes, Master," the young Jedi responded.  
  
"You can remember... everything?" Qui-Gon asked, eyes tearing.  
  
"Yes, Master. I can," Obi-Wan smiled. "And could you take this blasted collar off?" he complained.  
  
"Yes, I'll take it off as soon as we get to the shuttle. How do you remember? Dubelt said there was no way you would. And you should have forgotten everything by now," the master questioned.  
  
"The Force. It healed me," Obi-Wan's voice was filled with awe. "Do you really think I'm worth two hundred thousand credits?" Obi-Wan went on.  
  
"I did not pay it. The Temple did," Qui-Gon teased lightly.  
  
"Then the Temple's my new master," the young man reasoned.  
  
"You're not a slave, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said, seriously.  
  
"Are you sure?" Obi-Wan asked. "One-tenth of all slaves out there were kidnapped and forced into slavery. I'm no different... and you have my ownership records," he added, his voice belying a sense of unease. "And what about this?" he asked, pulling up his sleeve, revealing a number branded just above his wrist.  
  
"Obi-Wan, you're not a slave," Qui-Gon reassured - yet feeling annoyed with himself. He did not want Obi-Wan to feel like he was his property.  
  
"Can I have that in a data-recording," Obi-Wan joked.  
  
"You can have the ownership chip," Qui-Gon replied, handing the data-pad to him.  
  
Looking over the data-pad, Obi-Wan said, "Let's see.... One slave, Force sensitive, approximately eighteen years old, human male, light-colored hair, blue eyes, medium build, good condition." Then he broke into laughter.  
  
Confused by Obi-Wan's light-hearted manner, Qui-Gon stole several glances at him, while trying to keep the speeder on a safe course. "I'm glad you find this amusing."  
  
"Anything's amusing after all I've been through, Master. I'm just glad to be free again... and to remember everything," Obi-Wan sighed.  
  
"Shall we go home, padawan?" Qui-Gon asked, feeling more at ease than he had in a long time.  
  
"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan sighed. "Let's go home."  
  
  
  
end  
  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Well, it's over. I hope you liked it. Thank you everyone for reading. And thank you for all the feedback. And please don't think I'm making light of a serious situation like slavery. - Cascadia 


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